The Stranger
by RedPhoenix1
Summary: CH9 up. Dumbledore recruits some help from overseas. Will eventually become H/Hr, just not right away. Please R/R. Thanks
1. The Stranger


    **Obligatory Disclaimer:** I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the recognizable
    characters living there. I am just borrowing them to tell this story.
    **Summary:** A stranger is drawn into the magical world in Britain. Who is he? And why was
    he drawn to a small tavern unlike any he had ever been in?
    **A/N:** This is just the first chapter in what may or may not become a novel length story.
    This is based upon a character that a friend and I started writing when we were in middle school.
    I hadn't thought much about this story until I got sucked into the Harry Potter universe. I will
    try to give enough information about the character and any parts of that story that you need to
    know to understand this one. And before anyone asks, I no longer have a copy of the original
    story, as its been at least 12 years since I wrote any of it. You could say that the only copy
    left is stuck inside my head somewhere. I do hope that you enjoy this story. I will try to
    update as often as I can but with my working 40 hours a week and going to college full time, I
    really can't promise any real time table.
    
    
    * * *
    
    
    He didn't know what had brought him to Charing Cross Road. In fact, he didn't know why he had
    come to London at all. He was sitting in his favorite chair at home, flipping through channels
    on the television. It was like any other night really. No pressing engagements to occupy him.
    No friends to go visit. He was exactly as he had been for a very, very long time. He was alone.
    There wasn't even anything interesting on t.v. that night. That was until he came across a small
    news story about an unremarkable grave desecration in England. He couldn't see any reason for
    the local news station to even take time to mention it.
    As soon as he saw it, however, he knew that he had to go to London. He didn't know why; he
    just did. He had learned a long time ago not to fight his intuition. The very next morning he
    booked a flight on the first plane crossing the Atlantic. As luck would have it, it was headed
    to London. At the airport he rented a small car and just started driving. He had no idea where
    he was going, but he always knew which streets to turn onto. This was how he found himself
    standing in front of what could be described as an unremarkable door. Nothing about it was
    different than any other door along the street. That is unless you count the fact that nobody
    else seemed to even see the door at all. As far as they were concerned it was just a wall.
    Then there was the sign that hung above the door. It appeared to be a cauldron with a crack in
    the bottom of it. Almost as an afterthought, it seemed, someone had scrawled _The Leaky
    Cauldron_ upon it. This is where he was supposed to be; he was sure of it. He reached for
    the door and entered.
    The many patrons of the tavern looked up as the door opened. What they saw seemed to take them
    a little by surprise. What was a muggle doing in their tavern? How did he get in? He looked
    like any other muggle. He stood just slightly over two meters, no more that six centimeters. He
    had brown hair; his brown eyes were separated by a nose that was just a little too big for the
    rest of his face. He was clean-shaven except for the trimmed mustache that did nothing to hide the
    mouth that to be permanately set in a frown. His pale skin spoke of someone who hadn't seen sunlight
    very often in recent months. He appeared to be no older than in his early twenties, if not even
    younger. However, he carried himself as someone a lot older. His clothing pegged him as American.
    He was dressed in jeans and a black satin jacket with a small American flag just above the cuff
    of the right sleeve. On the back of the jacket was what looked like a strange runic character.
    It kind of looked like an 'N' with a superimposed 'Y' in blockish type lettering. His sneakers
    were well worn but were unmistakably American. They couldn't tell why; they just were. He
    quickly scanned the tavern before heading straight toward Tom, the bartender, asked for the
    strongest thing he had, and proceeded to an empty table along the wall furthest from the door. He
    appeared to be waiting for something.
    The first thing that struck him as his eyes quickly adjusted to the dim atmosphere inside was
    that he was in an old fashioned tavern. The fact that the place was lit by lanterns and candles
    leant itself to this quite well. The people were also dressed in what could've passed as Olde
    World recreations at the fairs he had read about once. Over these clothes many people were
    wearing cloaks, even though it was quite comfortable in here. Some of the headwear he saw seemed
    to defy definition. If he wasn't mistaken that woman was wearing a stuffed bird on top of her
    hat. That man's hat resembled a witch's hat with the exception of the missing brim. He could
    feel every eye in the place looking at him as if he had no right to be here. Never one to bow to
    others' expectations he decided to see what would happen if he ordered a drink. With that he
    headed straight for the bald and toothless man behind the bar.
    "Give me the strongest thing you've got, please." Even though he had no idea what that might
    entail he didn't allow his uncertainty to show in his voice.
    The bald man looked him over briefly, probably trying to guage how much the stranger could
    handle. After a moment's pause, he reached for a small, dusty bottle that was stashed behind
    several larger, less dusty bottles. Evidently whatever was in this bottle wasn't something that
    too many patrons partook of. After a quick wipe from the towel that miraculously appeared in his
    hand the bartender showed the label to his newest customer. _**Gilgamens' Goldefleut** Not for
    the timid._ "This strong enough for you, sir?" He gave him a toothless smile.
    Something in the way the bartender said that sent little alarm bells blaring in his head. He
    obviously didn't think that he could handle it. "Sure, it'll do." The bartender raised an
    eyebrow but poured the drink anyway. "How much do I owe you?"
    "Somehow, I don't think you've got the right currency, so we'll just say it's on the house."
    "Thanks, I think." He still didn't know why he was here so he decided to find a table and wait.
    Something was bound to catch his attention. He spotted an empty table along the wall that had
    a clear view of the entire tavern. He took his seat and began his brief sojourn. His drink was
    a little fruitier than he might have liked, but it was otherwise unremarkable. It wasn't any
    stronger than the single malt whiskey that he imbibed in on occasion.
    Nothing to do now but wait.
    


	2. Summoned


    **Obligatory Disclaimer:** I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the recognizable
    characters living there. I am just borrowing them to tell this story.
    **Summary:** The Stranger meets the man who summoned him across the Atlantic, Albus Dumbledore,
    and starts to put the pieces together.
    **A/N:** I hadn't intended to end this chapter where it did. I wanted to continue with the
    conversation in Dumbledore's office. But, at the last moment, I decided that that conversation
    deserved its own chapter. So look for it in the next chapter.
    
    
    * * *
    
    
    He sat patiently for two hours. During that time he simply observed his new surroundings. The
    room itself seemed to have two distinct personalities. The first was as he saw it: a tavern filled
    with strange patrons. The second wasn't really a personality, but a lack of one: a room filled with
    dust covered crates that hasn't been occupied in a very long time. He couldn't shake the feeling
    that he was both here, in the tavern, and there, in the storage room. Weird didn't begin to cover
    how it felt.
    The patrons seemed to be normal, on first glance. As the time went on, however, he began to observe
    some strange occurances. He witnessed a man at one of the tables conjure a chair seemingly out of
    thin air when another man came to sit at his table. On the other side of the room an older woman
    made several towels appear instantly when she spilled her drink. Both had waved what could only be
    described as a "magic wand", and with a few muttered words that he could not hear, POOF! None of the
    other patrons seemed to take any notice. That seemed to leave only one conclusion: these were normal
    occurances here. It seemed that every person in this room was magically inclined to some degree.
    He could hardly believe it. For more than four years he had thought that he was the only one left.
    Not since the loss of his friend did he meet another magic-sensitive. Now he was in a room full of
    them. He wasn't sure how he felt about this. One of these people could be the next Dark One. Could
    he bring himself to enter the fray again after what it cost him the last time? He would just wait
    and see what fate had in store for him.
    The bartender, Tom, as he was referred to by several patrons, quietly refilled his drink twice. Tom
    just looked at him each time as if to guage whether he appeared affected by the contents of the drink.
    Each time he returned to the bar with a strange, almost perplexed look, on his face. It was shortly
    after the second refill that the stranger noticed a new person enter the tavern from the back hallway.
    He briefly wondered where the hallway led to. It probably led to the rooms that were undoubtably
    upstairs. The restroom facilities were probably also back there. This new person appeared to be very
    old, if his long, grey beard was any indication. His hair was equally long and hung loosely about his
    shoulders and back. He appeared to be wearing a set of deep blue robes which covered the man
    completely, with the exception of his head and hands. Even his feet seemed to be nonexistent beneath
    his flowing robes. The robes themselves appeared to be of the finest craftmanship that he had ever
    seen, especially when compared to the clothing that the other patrons were wearing. This new person
    seemed to stand out without even trying. His eyes, which were almost as blue as his robes, scanned
    the room briefly before settling on the stranger in the strange clothing. His nose, which was long
    and appeared to have been broken several times, held a pair of half-moon spectacles. These were
    no doubt meant for reading, as he didn't need them to see everything in the room. When he caught
    sight of the stranger he appeared briefly shocked. Evidently, the stranger wasn't what he was
    expecting. After only a moments pause, he approached the stranger's table.
    "May I sit here?" At a brief nod from the table's sole occupant, he pulled out a chair and sat.
    "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Albus Dumbledore." He looked expectantly at his table-
    mate.
    "Name's Bryan Dunn. Pleased to meet you." He held out his hand.
    Albus Dumbledore looked at the hand for the briefest of moments before he seemed to remember the
    significance of the gesture. He grasped the proffered hand and gave it a brief shake. He smiled at
    the reaction on Bryan Dunn's face. It seems that he didn't think that Albus would know what a
    handshake was. _Well that just goes to show that you can't judge a book by its cover._ Albus caught
    Tom's attention and ordered the last thing that Bryan had expected: a Shirley Temple. He seemed to
    enjoy the glimpse of confusion. _Good. I'm not what he expected either._ Once he had taken a drink
    he saw no reason not to get to the point. "You'll excuse me if this sounds bad, but you weren't what
    I was expecting, Mr. Dunn."
    "Please, call me Bryan. How so?" _He had expectations about me? Is he the reason I am here?_
    Albus Dumbledore relaxed a little bit more. Bryan appeared as confused as he was. "Ok, Bryan,
    then I insist that you call me Albus. When I sent out the summoning spell, I expected someone much
    older. The power that the American Ministry had tracked bespoke of someone of great power and
    control. I didn't expect someone quite so young. You're something of a mystery, Bryan. You look
    and feel like a muggle, yet you do not seem the least bit affected by that drink of yours."
    Bryan gave Albus the first truly warm smile he'd felt in years. "Ah, so you're the reason I had
    the sudden urge to come to London. I'll admit I didn't have any preconceived notions as to why. I
    just gave up asking that question a long time ago. Speaking of which, I have a couple questions.
    One, what's a muggle? Two, what do you mean by the American Ministry? Three, why did you summon me?"
    _Oh dear. It seems that he isn't who I thought he was. I'll give him a few more minutes, just in
    case._ "Well, a muggle is what we call non-magic people. What you might call normal people. As for
    the American Ministry, that's a little more difficult. You see, the magical world is divided much
    like the muggle world. Each region has its own Ministry of Magic. Its function is the tracking and
    control of magic and its practitioners. It also acts to ensure that the muggle world remains
    oblivious to our existence. Each Ministry monitors all underage witches & wizards and notifies the
    appropriate schools when it finds them. When these witches or wizards are close to eleven, they are
    given the opportunity to attend a school that specializes in training them to be fully qualified
    members of the magical society. I, myself, am the headmaster of one such school. **Hogwarts School of
    Witchcraft & Wizardry.** My staff and I are sufficiently equipped to deal with normal witches and
    wizards. Once in a while, a student comes along that exceeds normal wizarding standards. I have
    one such student at Hogwarts. He's the reason I sent the summons."
    Bryan waited patiently while Dumbledore spoke, absorbing it all. He wasn't entirely sure what it
    all meant, but he was starting to get a basic idea. "So, basically, what you're saying is that there
    are witches and wizards all over the world? Why is it that I was unaware of this?"
    "As I said, we try to keep our existence a secret from muggles. If a muggle were to find out about
    us, what's to stop him or her from telling others, who, in turn, tell even more people. We must keep
    our existence a secret for our own safety."
    "That's the second time you have referred to me as a muggle. Why do you keep doing that? And if
    all this is a secret, why are you telling this 'muggle'?"
    Albus Dumbledore took another drink while he thought of the best way to answer that question. "Well,
    to be totally honest, you 'feel' like a muggle. By that, I mean that I sense no magic within you. I
    am hoping that I'm wrong about this, which is why I'm taking the chance."
    Finally they were getting somewhere. Bryan now understood why he's been getting strange looks ever
    since he walked in here. He was shielding, and these people can't read him through his shields any
    more than 'muggles' can. "Albus, I apologize for the misunderstanding. I am not a muggle. I learned
    that if I wanted any kind of normal life I had to shield, or block, my powers from other people. It
    seems that normal people, or muggles, are attracted to that power on a subconscious level. People I
    thought were my friends were acting on that subconscious attraction. It seems that my shield is also
    blocking you from reading those same powers. Let me turn down my shield."
    Almost as if he had created a loud disturbance, everyone turned to look at him the instant Bryan
    stopped blocking. Most of the patrons flinched when they sensed the sudden outpurst of power.
    Dumbledore relaxed visably. "Thank Godric. You ARE the person I was looking for. When we could no
    longer track you we figured you may have died. I sent the summons not really expecting to find anyone.
    When I received a response I was a little surprised. I was even more surprised when the spell
    informed me that you had come so quickly."
    Bryan became aware that he was starting to draw people's attention. He shielded again and everyone
    returned to their conversations, a little quieter than they had been a few moments before. Making a
    quick decision, he finished his drink and turned the glass upside down. He hoped that Tom would get
    the idea and not refill his drink. Albus sensing what he had in mind finished his drink as well and
    stood. "Shall we go someplace a little more private to continue our conversation? My office,
    perhaps?"
    "That sounds like a great idea, Albus. Lead the way." Bryan stood up and nodded a thank you to
    Tom and followed Albus. He was a little perplexed when he was led not to the door or the hallway, but
    to the fireplace. He took what appeared to be ashes from a small container and threw it into the fire.
    The fire immediately turned green and grew much higher. High enough in fact that Dumbledore could
    easily stand within it, which is exactly what he did. When he said "Dumbledore's office" he vanished.
    Bryan stood in front of the fireplace for a few moments wondering if he was expected to do the same
    thing. When nothing else happened he concluded that he would have to give it a shot. Reaching into
    the small container he took a small handful and threw it into the dying fire. It blazed up again.
    Taking a few calming breaths then stepped into the fire. _Here goes nothing._ "Dumbledore's office."
    Instantly, he felt like he was on a rollercoaster ride gone horribly wrong. He couldn't tell which
    way was up or down. All he saw was flashes of lights that appeared to be glimpses into other people's
    homes. Probably from their own fireplaces, he thought. After a few seconds, which felt much longer,
    he seemed to slow down until, finally, he was standing in a fireplace in what he assumed was Dumbledore's
    office. Albus Dumbledore was sitting behind a large oak desk and feeding something to a large red
    bird.
    "By the look on your face I see that was your first time travelling by floo-powder. I apologize for
    that. I am so used to travelling that way that I often times forget that some people don't know about
    it. You seem to have caught on to the basics well enough though. For that I'm grateful. Most people
    fall out of the fireplace their first few times. Please, have a seat." He gestured toward a chair
    in front of his desk.
    Bryan did so without comment. In fact, he was glad for the excuse to sit down. _Maybe my stomach'll
    catch up to me soon._ He took a few moments to look around the room. On nearly every it of wall hung
    a portrait of someone he didn't know. The strange thing about these portraits was that the subjects
    didn't sit still. A great many of them turned to look at the newcomer. Some went so far as to leave
    their picture and appear in a nearby portrait and strike up a conversation with its occupant. The rest
    of the walls were taken up by shelves upon shelves of books and various items that he had no way of
    even guessing their function. One such item appeared to be a very old, patched up wizard's hat.
    _Probably has some sentimental value._ Finally, he returned his gaze to Dumbledore, who was smiling
    at him. His eyes were sparkling with barely contained mirth. It would seem that everyone reacted
    to his office in similar ways their first time.
    


	3. Revelations: Part One


    **Obligatory Disclaimer:** I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the recognizable
    characters living there. I am just borrowing them to tell this story.
    **Summary:** Bryan tells Dumbledore about his past.
    **A/N:** I hope that this chapter clears up as much confusion about Bryan as possible. My original
    plan was to reveal small parts throughout the story, but maybe its better this way. Too late to go
    back now. But hey, I can still talk about other things from Bryan's past. It wasn't all bad, all the
    time. We'll just have to see what the future holds for us, right?
    
    
    * * *
    
    
    Bryan had so many questions he wanted to ask but felt that Dumbledore should start, given that they
    were sitting in his office. He also wasn't sure how exactly he should word them. _It seems obvious
    that Dumbledore thinks that I can help him in some way. Would he change his mind if I don't know
    something that he feels that I should?_
    After a few more moments of silence, Dumbledore seemed to sense that Bryan was waiting for him to
    speak first. "Based on my observations and our earlier conversation, it would seem that you are
    unfamiliar with the wizarding world. In fact, you seem to have been completely oblivious to its
    existence. Is this a fair assessment, Bryan?"
    "Yes, it is. I wish I had known. If I had, perhaps things would've turned out better." Bryan took
    a moment to collect himself as some disturbing memories threatened to surface. "Unfortunately, my
    inherited memories didn't include that bit of info."
    "Inherited memories?"
    Bryan took several deep breaths. _God, I don't want to talk about this. I'd hoped to never have to
    relive it._ "Albus, I can sense that you're solidly on the side of Good. Because of that I'll tell
    you everything I can. But you'll have to forgive me if I have problems with some parts. What I'm
    about to tell you is something that I had hoped to forget. In fact, I have spent the last four years
    trying to do just that. I lost many friends and family in a fight that I never asked for.
    "Let me start at the beginning. I was born normal, or muggle if you wish. My life was about as
    average as could be expected. There was my mom, a brother, a sister, and myself. I never knew my
    father. The only thing I knew about him was that he was also my sister's father. Rich's father had
    died when he was just a year old. Mom never changed her last name afterward so we all ended up with
    the same last name. We didn't care. To us, we were complete brothers and sister. Most of the time
    my siblings and I got along quite well. Occasionally we'd fight, like any other family. Mom always
    seemed to know exactly what to say to settle things quickly. Of course, she couldn't be there all
    the time. You see, she was a single mother with three kids. She had to work two jobs to make ends
    meet. We weren't rich, but we weren't poor either. We had to share a lot of things but I usually
    didn't mind. However, I vividly remember one time that I did mind." Bryan smiled as he remembered
    his sister. "My sister, Samantha, or Sam as she liked to be called, was a year older than me. I was
    eight, I think, and Sam and I had to share a bicycle. Rich had his own bike, since he was five years
    older. Anyway, one day I had decided that I wasn't going to let Sam have a turn riding the bike. I
    wanted to go riding with my friends. She was standing in front of the bike with one leg on either
    side of the tire, and she was holding the handlebars tightly so I couldn't get away. She had been
    asking me very nicely to let her ride it for a while. Naturally, I kept telling her no. big grin
    After five minutes of being nice about it, Sam had enough. Without warning she hauled off and decked
    me right in the face, breaking my nose. She didn't know it at the time. As soon as I fell off the
    bike, Sam grabbed it and rode off to meet the same friends I was going to go ride with. Sam had always
    been a tomboy. Having two brothers and living in a trailer park full of mostly male children, she
    never really felt comfortable with female friends. But I digress. As soon as the babysitter found
    out what happened she had called our mom and told her that she needed to come home quickly. Missing
    work always put Mom in a bad mood. Combine that with what happened and she was extremely angry with
    the two of us. After we had returned from the hospital having my nose set, she tracked Sam down and
    gave both of us the worst scolding I can remember her ever giving. When it was all said and done, we
    had been grounded for two weeks and had lost the use of the bike for a month. For about a week, Sam
    and I didn't speak more that a few words to each other. By that time Mom had decided we'd been grounded
    long enough. We rushed outside and it was like nothing happened. We were joking and playing with all
    our friends; the only reminder of what had transpired the week before was the bandage on my nose and
    the dark rings under both my eyes. We seemed to come to a silent agreement to never mention it again.
    And we never did." Bryan had to take another calming few breaths as he remembered why they'd never
    get the chance to mention it again.
    Although Dumbledore didn't know what some words meant, he knew enough about muggles that he understood
    enough to guess their meaning. He took this brief pause to conjure up a pitcher of ice water and two
    glasses. He filled both glasses and handed one to Bryan.
    Bryan took a long drink before continuing. "Thank you, Albus." Dumbledore nodded. "Where was I?
    Oh yeah. I had several friends, but only a few that I'd call close friends. There was Matt, Joe, and
    Tom. Matt, Tom, and I were all in the same grade while Joe was a year behind us. I had known Matt
    for as long as I could remember and I often thought of him as another brother who just happened to
    live in another house. Joe moved into the trailer park when I was seven. Tom lived about half a mile
    down the road and was an only child. We met Tom when the three of us had been riding bikes the week
    before school started. The four of us spent every day that week at Tom's house. He had all sorts of
    games and we probably played every single one. Once school started we were inseparable. When we
    weren't in school we were exploring the mountains that were next to the trailer park. Sometimes we'd
    get together with our other friends and play war games. By that I mean that we'd grab anything that
    looked remotely like a weapon and we'd divide into different teams, each would go to a different area
    of the woods and set up a 'camp'. After our camp was up, we'd try to find the other team's camp and
    'kill' any enemy that we came across. Oftentimes this would take up an entire day until we had to
    head home for dinner. It was during one of these games that Joe's and my lives changed forever. We
    had teamed up and were trying to circle around behind Matt's and Tom's team while the rest of our team
    came at them from the front. We had almost made it when something caught our attention. I was almost
    thirteen and Joe had just turned twelve so being cautious hadn't entered our minds as we went to
    investigate. We'd both explored these woods so often that we thought we knew every inch. We were
    wrong. We followed a faint blue light until we entered a clearing that we hadn't been in before. It
    was then that we thought about going and getting the others. We didn't though. We followed the light
    to the center of the clearing where we could see that the light was coming from the ground. More
    precisely, it was coming from a crack in the ground. We had no sooner seen the source of the light when
    the ground broke open and we fell into a small cavern. We lost consciousness immediately. When we woke
    up almost four hours later, we received the shock of our short lives. We had been changed. Each of
    us now possessed powers that even our active imaginations couldn't entirely comprehend. If that wasn't
    enough, we also possessed memories that weren't our own. I'm surprised that we didn't go insane from
    information overload. As we tried to climb out of the cavern the memories started to coalesce into
    some sensible information. It seems that we had inherited, as it were, the powers of two Mages by the
    names of Sarralon and Reyvan, who had been mortally wounded in a battle with a Dark Mage by the name
    of ..."
    Dumbledore was startled when the first two names had been mentioned. When Bryan had mentioned the
    Dark Mage, he knew what Bryan was going to say. "Malchien."
    Now it was Bryan's turn to be startled. "You know of him?"
    Albus stood and walked over to one of the bookshelves and grabbed a really old looking book. He
    leafed through it for a few moments until he found what he was looking for. He brought it back and
    handed it to Bryan as he sat back down. It was a history book, ancient history to be more precise.
    The section that he had opened to talked of a Mage war, The Mage War. "Almost two thousand years
    ago there was a war between the forces of the Light and Dark Mages. It lasted for almost a century,
    during which time the wizarding world was almost completely obliterated. One by one, Mages from
    both sides were killed. At the end of the war, only three Mages remained: Sefat Sarralon, Tyr
    Reyvan, and Nikolai Malchien. In what is commonly referred to as the last battles of the Mage War,
    Sarralon and Reyvan chased Malchien all over the world. Each time they caught up with him, they
    would fight. Although he was outnumbered, Malchien kept escaping. The final battle had taken place
    somewhere in what is now the northeastern part of the United States. It was believed that none of
    them survived because none was seen ever again. There hasn't been another documented Mage since."
    Bryan closed the book and handed it to Dumbledore. "I wish that were true. Unfortunately, it's
    never that easy, is it. During that final battle, Sarralon and Reyvan had the upper hand and thought
    that they had Malchien beat. Both were throwing everything they had at him and Malchien was losing
    ground slowly, but steadily. They knew that he wouldn't last much longer. Then, without notice,
    Malchien did something totally unexpected; he vanished. Whether it was intended or not, the spell he
    had used to vanish also caused Sarralon's and Reyvan's spells to ricochet back at them. Although
    they weren't killed instantly, they knew they weren't going to live for much longer. They spent their
    remaining time figuring out what had happened. They determined that Malchien had attempted to jump
    forward in time. They had no way of calculating how far because they didn't know if he had time to
    complete the spell. Then there's the fact that he was under attack at the time. Not knowing how that
    would affect it, they couldn't even make educated guesses. They knew they couldn't wait around for him
    to return so they hatched up a new plan. They decided to embed their power into the walls of the small
    crevasse that they were currently in. They included as much of their knowledge as they could as well.
    Before they were completely powerless each had placed a final spell that would transfer their power
    and knowledge to the next person that comes along that is deemed Good. I am guessing about that last
    part. I know they were planning on doing it, and I later learned that we just missed the return
    of Malchien by hours. Since their powers didn't transfer to him, it would seem to be the logical
    conclusion.
    "At first we didn't know that Nikolai Malchien was now somewhere in our time. He spent almost an
    entire months learning about the new time he was in and also learning about us. Meanwhile, Joe and I
    spent that same year impressing our growing number of friends. Not the most sensible thing to do, I
    know, but we were just kids. What did we know? I'm just glad that we had enough sense to at least
    keep it out of the public eye. As we learned more about our Mage powers from the memories, we started
    doing more and more stuff. Stuff like creating bicycles for all our friends, making a secret place
    that only we could get to. We hid it inside the mountains right behind the trailer park. We began
    spending more and more time there until we were spending a week at a time there. We'd simply tell our
    parents that we were staying at one of our friends' houses. We wanted for nothing. If there was some
    item that we didn't have, we conjured it. If there was someplace we wanted to go, we made our private
    version right there inside our 'hidden palace' as we started calling it. We continued going to school
    but we no longer had to study. When test time came we enchanted our pencils to know the answers and
    we passed every time. It was almost paradise. We should've known that it couldn't last forever.
    "Almost a year to the day later, Malchien made his first move. I don't know what possessed us, but
    we just knew where we needed to be. Since we were curious to know what was there, we went. We were in
    Idaho. At first everything looked to be fine. Then we heard the train whistle. When we looked in its
    direction, we could see a passenger train heading for a canyon. The problem was that there wasn't a
    rail bridge to see the train safely across. Since we weren't sure we could stop the train in time we
    created a temporary rail bridge that lasted just long enough for the last car to make it safely across.
    Once that was done. We alerted the railroad company, anonymously of course, of the situation.
    "Over the next year and a half we were subjected to ever-increasing tests. Each time we'd sense
    where and we'd go. Each time it was bigger than the last, testing a different aspect of our new
    abilities. Each time we'd have to expend more and more energy. And the tests were occurring more
    frequently. I'd lost count we had to alter people's memories so they wouldn't remember what happened.
    "Probably the only good thing that came out of those tests of Malchien's was that we were forced
    to learn everything we could about our abilities. We had started to recognize the pattern to the
    attacks. We noticed the fact that each attack seemed to require a different approach. It was then
    that we had determined that we were being tested. We just didn't know by who. The memories of Sarralon
    and Reyvan suggested that it was Malchien, but we couldn't be certain. That is until the final test.
    Malchien made his presence known to us in quite a dramatic fashion. He'd set up his final scenario.
    This time he wanted to test our hearts instead of our power. He forced us to choose between helping
    our friends and helping a town full of strangers. I remember that first introduction with perfect
    clarity.
    "'Ah, the midget Mages have arrived. Good, time for some more fun.' He'd laughed. 'Oh, how remiss
    of me, let me introduce myself. My name is Nikolai Malchien. I've been dying to meet both of you for
    so long, now. You've proven to be a most enjoyable diversion up to now.' Another laugh. 'You both
    should be honored, you know. You are the first two people to meet a Dark Mage in millennia. I am very
    honored to be meeting two Light Mages, even if they are just shadows of my former enemies.' An
    exaggerated bow this time. 'You seem to have all their power. What I want to know is, do you have
    their heart? After today, we'll know, won't we!' Again, he laughed. He'd laughed so hard, we had
    thought that he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen. No such luck. He righted himself and
    continued. 'I have tested each of your Mage abilities. Now I'm going to test YOU. I've taken the
    liberty of securing several of your friends somewhere out of the way. I'm not going to tell you where,
    but I will tell you this. They're in a hole that is gradually filling with water. And they can't get
    out on their own. I've taken the liberty of securing them to the bottom with a constricting band.
    The further from the bottom they get, the tighter it gets. The more water that fills in around them,
    the higher they'll float. The higher they float, the more they get crushed.' He put up a hand to stop
    us just as we were about to go looking for them. 'Wait. You might want to hear what else I've set up
    for you.' When we made no other move to leave, he told us the rest. 'You see that town over there?
    It's about to be visited by the biggest storm in the history of storms. If you do nothing, everyone in
    that town will die most horrifically. Now you must choose between saving your friends and saving a town
    full of people that you hardly know.' With an almost dismissive wave of his hand, he vanished.
    "Immediately, the town started to get pummeled by a mage-induced storm that put a hurricane to shame.
    Winds were blowing so hard that small cars were being pushed around. Rain and hail had also started
    pelting everything in sight. Then the thunderclaps started. They were so loud and forceful that windows
    shattered, raining glass everywhere. Several forks of lightning pierced the darkening sky. Each time
    we could see the townspeople running around aimlessly. No place seemed to be safe. Joe and I looked at
    each other and just knew that we had to help them. We knew where the townspeople were. We knew how to
    help them. If we took time to look for our friends there was no telling how many people would die.
    We went into town and started to battle the storm. It was slow going at first. We would counter one
    part of the storm and another would pop up across town. We fought for hours. Each volley the storm
    threw our way we drove right back onto itself. Finally, we beat it. After taking a few moments to
    ascertain the extent of damage the storm had done, we found out that twenty townspeople had died. We
    felt like we'd been rammed in the stomach by a dump truck. We set that feeling aside, however, because
    we still had to find our friends. We searched for what felt like hours. In reality, though, it was
    only minutes. Ironically enough, we found our friends in the very same cavern we had fallen into two
    and a half years earlier. It was almost completely full of water. We could see our friends hovering
    about halfway down. They were holding their breath for who knew how long. Joe quickly broke the
    constricting spell. Our friends burst to the surface, gasping for air. I was the first to notice that
    not everyone was so fortunate. Instead of floating to the surface with the others, our friend Matt had
    sunk to the bottom. Without thinking, I dove into the water and brought him to the rim of the cavern
    where Joe had helped to pull him out. Matt was dead. As it turned out, he had had one of his panic
    attacks and couldn't hold his breath. He drowned instantly. When we found out that all those people
    had died, we felt really bad. But that couldn't compare to how we felt seeing Matt lying there as if
    asleep. We tried to revive him but it was beyond our abilities. We were devastated. Numbly, we
    carried him back to his house where his parents started bombarding us with a million questions. We
    didn't know what to tell them so we lied. We told them that we were playing in the stream and that
    Matt had dove into the swimming hole and never came back up. There was an investigation into his
    death. It was determined that he had probably dove into the water and got trapped on one of the tree
    roots and couldn't escape. We all agreed that it was best if we let people believe it. The deaths
    in town were attributed to a burst water main since Joe and I had erased the storm and all its damage
    from the townspeople's memories.
    "After that day we went on the offensive. We swore on Matt's memory that Malchien would rue the day
    he ever crossed our path. We took the battle to him every time we found out where he was hiding. He,
    of course, didn't stop attacking us, either. For two years we fought many battles. Each one had dire
    consequences. We lost more friends and strangers. Each loss only served to spur us on more fervently.
    Several times we thought we'd beaten him just to have him spring back up months later as strong as ever.
    The last time we thought we had beaten him was during our senior year in high school. We couldn't feel
    him anymore. We were relieved that it was finally over. We started to put our lives back together and
    move on. Everything went smoothly the rest of the year, right up until graduation day.
    "It was a perfect day. The sun was shining and everyone was smiling and having a great time preparing
    for the ceremony. The school principal had just finished introducing the class valedictorian to present
    her speech when I felt it. I looked towards the stands and I could tell that Joe felt it as well.
    With no more warning all hell broke loose. The ground opened up beneath the stadium we were in and many
    people fell to their deaths. My mom and sister were among them. Rich had been killed the year before or
    he would have been there as well. I didn't have time to grieve because Malchien appeared at the podium
    and started throwing Mage energy in every direction. Joe and I began transporting as many people as we
    could out of harms way. When we had finished we both turned our full attention on Malchien. That final
    battle was almost a reenactment of the final battle between Malchien and our predecessors, Sarralon and
    Reyvan. We poured almost everything we had at him. He fought back, but again, he was losing ground.
    Knowing how he had escaped before, we blocked him from using the time jump spell. Malchien was about to
    lose and he knew it. Moments before we destroyed his body, Malchien transferred his life-force into the
    nearest person, Joe. Sensing this transfer I immediately turned my attention to Joe. He seemed to be
    fighting an internal battle, which I guess he was. I was at a loss to what I should do. Joe was the
    first to figure it out. It was barely a whisper, but I had no problem understanding him.
    "'You're going to have to kill me. I can't fight him off for much longer.' The look in his eyes spoke
    volumes. He didn't want to die, but there was no other alternative. He could keep him from escaping
    into another body at the critical moment. He was also sorry. Sorry that it was I that had to do it.
    After everything that had happened in the past five years, we were the only ones left standing. We
    had no one else to turn to. We were it and Joe knew how difficult it would be for me to do what had
    to be done. I was about to kill my last friend, my last family member, the last person that I cared
    about. All of this I saw in his eyes in that one moment. 'Do it, Bryan. it has to be done.'
    "I could barely speak in whispers, but Joe just nodded when i said, 'I'm sorry.' A moment's pause,
    and then I did what I knew I had to. I drew upon my Mage powers once more and killed him. There was
    no grand explosion, no fireworks, nothing. A brief flash of light and he was dead. After each loss I
    had suffered I felt a little piece of me die too. This final blow almost killed me inside. I just
    slumped to the ground and started to cry. I didn't move, nor stop crying, for the rest of the day.
    It was late in the evening when I was finally all cried out. I became aware of my surrounding once
    again. I was in the middle of what looked like a field of cloth. Everywhere I looked there were bodies
    covered in whatever was available. Some were covered by suitcoats, others by capes from the band
    members' uniforms, still others by the pennant flags that once hung around the stadium. There were
    a great many people moving around whom I'd correctly guessed were rescue workers. One of them noticed
    that I was starting to move and immediately came up to me.
    "I don't know exactly what he asked or what my replies were. I do know that it wasn't the truth.
    When I had collected my wits enough I did what came naturally by this point. I erased it all from
    people's memory. For the next two weeks the local newspapers were reporting that the high school
    stadium was destroyed by an undocumented seismic event. Each new day brought a new theory as to the
    cause, but none were anywhere close."
    Bryan took a moment to empty his glass, refill it from the pitcher, then empty it again. "After that
    day I just packed up and left. I had no interaction with anyone that I once knew. Never spending
    enough time in any one place to form any new friendships. I did the odd job here and there to make a
    few bucks. Enough to get by for a while. I stopped using my Mage abilities altogether. I guess you
    could say that I was hiding from myself. For the last four years I've been wandering throughout the
    United States, trying desperately to forget about it all.
    "That is, until I saw that news segment about the grave desecrations. Once again I felt the pull to
    be somewhere. I wasn't afraid that Malchien had risen again; I knew that he was gone for good. I was
    wary about going at first. I didn't know who, or more likely what, I'd find when I got there. It was
    that uncertainty that finally convinced me to go. If something happened and more people died because
    I was afraid to act, I knew I couldn't live with that. So I followed that feeling, and here I am."
    Albus Dumbledore remained quiet for several minutes as he digested all this information. He compared
    Bryan's story to what he knew of the strange energy that the American Ministry had been trying to track
    down for five years. It seemed a coincidence at first glance. But the more he thought about it, the
    more it made sense. The strange energy just appeared one day. It would then start bouncing around so
    much that it became impossible to pinpoint. It would then vanish for long periods of time, only to
    flare up again, then vanish once more. They had thought they'd found the source when they'd traced a
    really big energy spike to a muggle game field. The only apparent survivor was a seventeen year old
    muggle who told them that the ground had just started shaking and that he had seen his family fall to
    their deaths. The American Aurors could feel the aftereffects of a great battle but couldn't find any
    survivors. They did find two bodies that they had assumed to be the combatants. Since they were already
    dead they decided to let the muggle authorities deal with them. They had made a final note about the
    surviving muggle going to the body of the younger combatant. He was probably a friend. The American
    Ministry had kept watch on the teen for about a year before determining that he possessed no knowledge
    of the wizarding world. _I guess they were wrong._
    "Well, that explains a great deal about some things. When I had read the reports from the American
    Ministry that concluded that there had been another Mage battle and that there were no survivors, I just
    couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. I didn't know exactly what, mind you, but it had
    been bothering me ever since. Now I guess some part of me knew that there had been a third participant.
    Like I said before, when I sent the summoning spell I wasn't entirely sure it would be successful. I
    just had to give it a try. There's one thing that still bothers me. With all the knowledge that was
    passed on to you, didn't any of it include the existence of the wizarding world?"
    "I guess they didn't think that it was important enough to include. Believe me, I wish that I HAD
    known. Maybe, with some help, we could have defeated him so much quicker, and without such a high
    price having been paid. Maybe my friends or family ..." Bryan couldn't bring himself to finish the
    rest of the thought. Even now it was very painful to think about. Thinking about the possibility that
    they might've survived if he had just sought out some help was impossible. It didn't matter that he
    didn't know at the time that such help might have existed.
    Neither one spoke for several, long minutes.
    


	4. Revelations: Part Two


    **Obligatory Disclaimer:** I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the recognizable
    characters living there. I am just borrowing them to tell this story.
    **Summary:** Dumbledore explains to Bryan why he needs his help.
    **A/N:** I hope that this chapter finishes the backstory. I hope to start the real story with the
    next chapter. I also hope to break away from the heavy-talking chapters that the last two have been. I
    don't know if I like the way that this chapter flowed, and Dumbledore sounds a little too ... off.
    Sorry about that.
    Also, I had some trouble getting Bryan into Hogwarts. I had thought about changing his age back in
    the first chapter and that would've solved that problem. But it would have created some problems with
    his back story. Either I would have had him just recently finished battling Malchien, or I could have
    made it so he fought at an even younger age. Neither would have worked to my satisfaction. I hope you
    like how I worked it out. I've even got a few ideas for plot complications that could develop from it.
    
    
    * * *
    
    
    It had been perhaps six minutes since Bryan had last spoken. Dumbledore waited patiently for him to
    recollect himself. Having had to fight many such fights as he has in his one hundred and fifty odd
    years, he was well aware of the impact they can have on an individual. The battle may have stopped on
    the outside, but on the inside, it never really ends. The memories can surface at the most inopportune
    times, shaking you to your very core. Each time it happens, its like being there again, fighting for
    life. And each time you must force yourself to remember that you survived and that the battle has been
    over for a long time. To consciously recall those memories, to live them again in order to talk about
    them must be inordinately more difficult. Especially if you've been trying to forget them, like Bryan
    has been for four years. He should've had someone to talk to about them a long time ago. Perhaps they
    wouldn't be as traumatic to talk about. But one cannot change the past.
    Bryan had finally tucked the last memory safely away and looked up to see Dumbledore quietly waiting.
    He could see understanding looking back at him over the half-moon glasses. Nevertheless, he felt it was
    necessary to apologize for the delay. "I'm sorry about that, Albus. I had thought that I had come to
    terms with my past, but I guess its still something of a sore subject."
    "There's no need for apologies. I can sympathize with what you're going through. I, myself, have had
    similar incidents in my past. More than I care to admit, in fact." He paused for a moment. "Perhaps I
    was lucky to have someone that I could talk to about them soon after they happened. I was able to work
    through the grief and other emotions much quicker because of it. If you ever need someone to talk to
    about this or anything else, please feel free to seek me out."
    Bryan gave him a weak smile. "Thank you for the offer, but I've never been comfortable talking about
    my emotions. If it becomes too much I'll try, but I can't guarantee anything." And almost as if a
    switch had been thrown somewhere, Bryan changed demeanor. He smiled warmly this time. "Now that I've
    told you my story, it's your turn. You have hinted several times that you needed my help with something.
    A student, I think it was?"
    Dumbledore recognized the ploy for what it was. Bryan was changing the subject to one that didn't
    focus on him. Very well, we'll have to discuss it anyway. "Yes, quite. Well, I had another thought I'd
    wanted to share with you before we continued, but it can wait. Like your own story, it is best if I
    start at the beginning.
    "Almost sixty years ago I was a teacher here at Hogwarts. I took pride in the fact that I honestly
    liked all my students. There was one student, however, that I had trouble liking. There was just
    something about him that didn't fit. Oh, he was always polite and well-mannered, but it always struck
    me as an act. I didn't have anything solid to grab onto and analyze, so I let it pass. But the feeling
    never went away.
    "This student lived in an orphanage when he wasn't attending school. His mother had died when he was
    very young and his muggle father had wanted nothing to do with him. I think that was where his hatred
    had started. From there it just grew. He started to immerse himself in his studies. Learn as much as
    he could, as fast as he could. He wanted to prove himself better than his muggle father. To prove that
    he could do anything in spite of his muggle father. Soon, the curriculum couldn't offer him enough
    material for his quest for knowledge. Soon enough that quest changed. He started seeking power and it
    didn't matter where he got it from. The magic he couldn't learn in class, he learned from books or from
    any witch or wizard who he could convince to teach him. Light magic or Dark, it didn't matter to him.
    As long as it made him more powerful. The more power he amassed, the more he wanted. By the time he
    graduated, he had laid the groundwork for continuing his quest. The graduation ceremony was the last
    time that he answered to his given name: Tom Marvolo Riddle.
    "Upon graduation, he disappeared for many years. It is now known that he had altered his quest once
    again. Now he not only sought out power, he sought immortality as well. By the time he resurfaced in
    the mid-seventies, he was as unrecognizable as his new name, Lord Voldemort. He started to gather some
    followers, slowly at first. As his following increased, so did his arrogance. He started selecting
    members of his following that were most loyal and made them Death Eaters, and binding them to him by
    use of a Dark Mark placed on the arm of the follower. Its purpose was two-fold. First, it was a mark
    that would identify each other. Second, it could be used to summon the Death Eaters to him. With his
    Death Eaters at his side, Lord Voldemort began to really terrorize the wizarding world. He wanted to
    rule it all. By the late-seventies, I and several of my closest friends had formed our own group and
    were openly fighting him, soon others joined in until it seemed that all-out war was about to consume
    the entire wizarding world. We all knew that once the wizarding world fell, the muggle one wouldn't
    stand a chance. And we held no illusions that Voldemort would destroy it as well. It got so bad that
    many grown witches and wizards were afraid to even say his name. He started to be referred to as You-
    Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Even today most people still will not speak his name. Anyway,
    I digress. Voldemort feared no one, although some feel he may have feared me. I'm not certain why.
    "Even while helping in the battle against Voldemort, two of my young friends had gotten married and
    soon had a son. Their son was special and Voldemort knew it somehow. He feared the child more than
    even me. As soon as we learned of his plan to kill the child, I insisted that my friends go into hiding
    along with their son. And for a while they were safe, up until the child was a year old, at least.
    Another of their friends betrayed them to Voldemort. He wasted no time in going after them. The boy's
    parents tried to protect him as much as possible, the mother even sacrificed herself. However, they
    were no match for Voldemort's power. He killed them both, then turned on the boy. When he tried to
    kill the boy, he found he couldn't. His mother's sacrifice had given the boy some protection from the
    Killing Curse. Instead of killing the boy, the Curse rebounded back at Voldemort, nearly destroying him.
    The boy received a distinctive scar on his forehead, but otherwise seemed unaffected. From that point
    forward, the two of them have been unintentionally linked. Although the wizarding world thought that
    Voldemort was dead, I felt it prudent to ensure his protection by placing the young boy in the care of
    his muggle relatives. He would be much harder to find there than anywhere in the wizarding world. He
    had become an overnight celebrity at the age of one. There isn't a witch or wizard who doesn't know who
    he is or what he looks like. I knew it would be unhealthy for him to grow up in such an environment.
    "As word spread through the wizarding world of the demise of the Dark Lord and the child who defeated
    him, some of Voldemort's followers started recanting their allegiences to him and tried to reenter their
    lives as they were before. Some were successful, most were not. Those that were caught and convicted
    were sent to the worst place in the wizarding world, Azkaban Prison. That place'll suck any happiness
    you have right out of you, leaving only endless hopelessness in its wake. They've been there ever since.
    "Soon the world returned to what it was before Voldemort's rise, for the most part anyway. The rumors
    that Voldemort was still alive kept everyone silently holding their breath, dreading his return. As time
    passed and no new information had surfaced, people started living again. They still feared to say his
    name, and by extension him, but they went about their daily lives as usual. And so it went for ten years.
    "In 1991, Harry Potter, or as he's often referred to in many books about Voldemort, The-Boy-Who-Lived,
    started attending Hogwarts, like his parents had before him. His muggle relatives tried to stop him from
    coming, but not for reasons one would think. They weren't afraid for his safety. No, they just don't
    like witches and wizards. To them, we're unnatural. Horrendous people. It pains me to have to send
    Harry back to them every summer, but its still the safest place for him. No matter how badly the
    Dursley's treat him. Again, I digress. Sorry about that. As fate would have it, that was the same
    year that Voldemort made his first real attempt to return to power. Harry managed to stop him. Once
    again the protection his mother had given him had saved him. Since then, young Harry Potter has faced
    Voldemort twice more. Both times he's lived. This has only added to people's belief that he's a great
    hero that'll bring Voldemort down for good. However, what very few people know is that in his last
    encounter with Voldemort, Harry lost his protection. Voldemort used some of Harry's blood to regain his
    power, thus nullifying the protection that Lily Potter had given Harry all those years ago. That was
    just this past month.
    "Since Harry's last encounter with him, Voldemort has been calling his supporters back to him. He is
    no doubt deep in planning his next move. I have been the same. I have sent word to my friends and have
    started setting my own plans into action. Like others, I believe that Harry is the one who'll bring
    Voldemort down. Unlike the others, I have real reasons. First, there's the link between them. Harry
    has been unintentionally using that link in his dreams to gather information on Voldemort's activities.
    And second, there's the reason that Voldemort wanted him dead in the first place. In recent months
    Harry has been showing an increasing proficiency in wandless magic. It's still very uncontrolled and
    unpredictible. But it is there, nonetheless. It would seem that Harry is developing Mage powers.
    Voldemort must have detected the potential and decided to eliminate a future threat before Harry had
    time to develop his gifts.
    "And that's where you come in. I was hoping that you could train him. I wish it weren't necessary to
    ask this of you, but there aren't any other likely candidates. I would do it myself except I am not a
    Mage. I can do some wandless magic, but that's due more to age and experience than anything else. Plus,
    I haven't the time necessary, especially now that I must reorganize the resistance forces and advising
    our own Ministry. What do you think?"
    Dumbledore had wanted to tell him so much more but felt that he had given Bryan enough of the overall
    picture that anything else could be filled in later. He sincerely hoped that Bryan would agree to help
    him, but he also understood why he might not want to. He'd fought his own battle and barely made it out
    alive. _Even now, I can see him weighing both sides. Good, he's at least considering it._
    Bryan took a few moments to process this information before he felt ready to answer him. When he
    started talking, he still hadn't fully decided what he'd do. He needed some more information. "Albus,
    I think I might want to help, but I am uncertain of how much I can invest of myself in another fight.
    I lost everything the last time and don't know if I can go through it again. But I can also sympathize
    with the boy. To lose one's parents so young, it must have had a tremendous affect on him. What kind
    of person is Harry Potter? How is he handling his role in all this?"
    "Well, he's like most other boys his age. He has his friends, and his enemies. He breaks the rules
    every once in a while. He works hard and gets decent marks in all his classes. But he's also more.
    He is very loyal, both to his friends and to me. When he does break the rules, it is often for very
    selfless reasons. He probably takes more responsibility upon himself than he should. He knows what the
    rest of the wizarding world thinks of him and doesn't like it much. In his mind, I think he knows that
    he can never fully live up to the reputation he's been given. He wants nothing more than to be like
    everyone else. Despite everything that's happened, he's still himself. He hasn't let his accomplish-
    ments go to his head and he doesn't use his status to his advantage. I'm not sure I'm answering your
    question, so I'll just say this: I think Harry is a very nice young man who also happens to be the most
    moral, well-mannered, likable people that I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Does that answer your
    question?"
    "Yes and no. But it doesn't matter. I'll help in any way I can. I'm not sure how effective I might
    be, but I'll do everything I can. How do you propose we handle his training? We can't exactly do it
    out in the open. This Voldemort probably has spies everywhere who'd notify him of such. Likewise, we
    can't hide away somewhere secluded until he's trained. His disappearance would raise too many questions
    that would best be left unasked."
    "Indeed, Bryan. I did have a plan, but I don't think it'll work. Like I said before, I had figured
    that you'd be much older. I also hadn't counted on your lack of knowledge of the wizarding world. My
    plan was to recruit you to be a teacher. Since everyone knows that we're in need of a new Defense
    teacher, it would've been the perfect cover. Unfortunately, I don't think you'd be able to pass as a
    professor. So I'm not sure how to proceed."
    Both were silent for a few minutes, each lost in thought. The only sounds to be heard in the office
    were those made by the large red bird as it dozed on its perch, the rustling of fabric as they shifted
    body positions, and the clinking of ice as it melted in the now forgotten pitcher. Finally one of them
    spoke.
    "Albus, I think I have an idea that might work. Let me know what you think. What if I were to come
    here, not as a professor, but as a student? I can be placed in the same grade as Harry Potter, perhaps
    even in the same classes. It shouldn't raise too many questions or suspicions. If we were seen spending
    a lot of time together, it could be mistaken as studying."
    "Hmm, I was thinking along similar lines. However, I wasn't going to suggest it. It would be a lot of
    work on your part, especially getting caught up. Harry will be entering his fifth year in the fall. You
    would have to learn four years worth of material by then. You would also be required to take some sort
    of cumulative testing on that material since you've never used a wand before. And there will be no way
    for you to use magic, even such as you control, to cheat. It wouldn't be fair to any of the other
    students. Becoming a student would be extremely difficult. Then there's another factor that would draw
    attention, you're several years older than the fifth years."
    "I'm not afraid of hard work. I know that I can learn the materials, it just might take a little bit
    longer than the summer. Perhaps you could arrange to have the tests take place a few months into the
    term. That should give me enough time. I have a fairly good memory. It's not photographic, but its
    close enough. I think I might actually enjoy learning magic in a structured environment instead of waking
    up and finding all the knowledge embedded in my brain.
    "As far as my being older, I can fix that. One of my specialties happens to be transformation. I can
    change one thing into another very easily. Joe could as well, but he had more difficulty. He was better
    at transportation than me so it all worked out. I can literally become younger."
    "I'm not sure that'll work. Because of certain events this past year, I will be placing some new wards
    around Hogwarts. They will prevent people from disguising their appearance. Glamour spells and poly-
    juice potions will have no effect."
    "I don't know what a poly-juice potion is, but I've heard the term Glamour Spell. What I'm proposing
    isn't a Glamour. I will transform myself into my younger self. For all intents and purposes, I will be
    younger. Mentally, I'll still know my true age, but my body will be as it was at that age. And once I
    transform, I will not have to maintain it. I will stay that way until I choose to return to my true age."
    "What you're describing sounds a lot like animagus transformations. The only difference is that an
    Animagus can transform into an animal. Each Animagus may have a unique animal it transforms into but the
    process is still the same, regardless of animal. Out of curiosity, can you change into an animal?"
    "I don't know. I've never tried it before. I suppose that if I were to study the animal for a while
    I could do it."
    "Any animal?"
    "In theory. We can test it some other time, if you wish."
    "Fastinating. You're right, we have more immediate concerns. If you're sure that you want to do this
    then I have no objections. I can draw up a list of books and supplies that you'll need in order to get
    caught up. Later this summer you should receive an official letter letting you know what you'll need
    for your fifth year classes. Do you know where you'll be staying?"
    "Not yet. I might go back to the tavern and inquire about a room there. If that doesn't work, I can
    always rent a flat in London. I hadn't thought about such things until now."
    "I think it would be best if you stayed at _The Leaky Cauldron_. Just let Tom know that I sent
    you and he'll get you started in the right direction. Be sure to ask him about getting to Diagon Alley
    and pointing you toward Gringotts' Bank. You'll need to change your muggle money to wizard money as
    soon as possible. And while you're in Diagon Alley, you may want to purchase some new clothes. You don't
    want to draw too much attention to yourself. In fact, it might be a good idea if you changed yourself
    as soon as possible."
    "Good idea, Albus." In a matter of seconds, Bryan went from being a twenty-one year old man to that
    of a fourteen year old boy. He had shrunk several inches and his frame lost some of its bulk. Gone
    was his mustache and his face lost some of the chiseled look and became a little fuller. It had also
    seemed to light up as his frown bacame a smile and his eyes seemed more energetic. His skin tone had
    gone from its pale color to a more healthy appearance. He looked like any healthy, active teenager
    looked like. Except for the clothes. They were now too big and hung off him at odd angles. After a
    moment, these too had changed. The jacket simply disappeared. His jeans and shirt had shrunk until
    they fit correctly. His sneakers were replaced by a different pair. His worn, American sneakers made
    way for a pair of nondescript black running shoes.
    "Albus, err, I guess I should call you Professor Dumbledore now, what do you think?" His voice had
    also lost some of the deep bass that it had. He now spoke as one would expect one who's voice had only
    just changed maybe a year or two before.
    "If I hadn't seen you change, I'd swear I was looking at your little brother." Albus Dumbledore got up
    and came around the desk and held out his hand to Bryan. "I can't thank you enough for helping me. If
    you need any help, feel free to ask."
    Bryan stood and shook Dumbledore's hand. "You don't have to thank me. I couldn't, in good conscience,
    turn away from someone who needs my help. Besides, its not like I don't get something out of this deal.
    I get to attend a school that teaches witchcraft and wizardry. I think I would've enjoyed school the
    first time if I wasn't battling Malchien all the time. Not too many people can say that they truly get
    to be a kid again." He let go of Dumbledore's hand and walked to the fireplace. "I should go talk
    to Tom. I'll see you later, Professor Dumbledore."
    As Bryan Dunn reached for the floo powder Dumbledore said goodbye to his newest ally in the fight
    against Lord Voldemort. With a flash of light, Bryan was gone.
    


	5. And So It Begins

**Obligatory Disclaimer:**  I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the recognizable characters living there.  I am just borrowing them to tell this story.

**Summary:**  Bryan begins his adventures in the wizarding world.  Meanwhile someone is plotting against him.

**A/N:**  This chapter marks the beginning of the real story.  I apologize for taking four chapters to complete the background information.  I am having second thoughts about how I got Bryan into Hogwarts.  Should I have done it another way?  If you have any suggestions or comments on this, please feel free to let me know.  I truly want your feedback on this.

      I hope you enjoy this chapter.  I know it's short but I wanted to get this out while I had some free time.  Thanks for reading!   

* * *

  Bryan spent the remainder of the day returning his rental car and arranging to have some of his money converted to Pounds.  When he had dropped off the keys he'd received a few strange looks but he didn't stick around to answer any questions.  _It's a good thing that I had pre-paid for the entire day.  I don't think I could explain why a fourteen year old was returning it. _

  Dealing with the banks had been a little tricky at first.  When he'd proven that he knew all the answers to the security questions and showed his passport with a magically doctored photo, he had no more problems.  He contacted the bank in his old hometown and had them close out the accounts that had been set up when his family had died.  His family may not have been rich but their mother had made sure that everyone was insured.  As the sole surviving member of the family, he had been named beneficiary by default.  At the time he couldn't bring himself to touch the money, so he'd had it deposited into several accounts.  He still didn't want to touch the money but he had to admit to himself that he needed it.  Reluctantly he transferred most of the balance to a London bank and moved the rest into a single savings account.  Once the transfer was complete he immediately converted it to Pounds and took it all with him back to _The Leaky Cauldron, after he shrunk it down to a manageable size, of course.  He didn't think that it would be wise to walk around with £320,000._

  When he arrived at his room that evening he found an owl waiting on his window sill.  He went over to the window with the intention of shooing it away.  He stopped when he saw the letter that it had attached to its leg, however.  He untied the letter and looked at it with some trepidation.  It was addressed to him and even had his room number on it.  When he turned it over and found the Hogwarts seal, he knew it must be from Dumbledore.  _I should have known.  He did say he'd let me know what I needed to buy in Diagon Alley._  He opened the letter and began to read:

_Dear Mr. Dunn,_

_I trust that you have settled in all right.  As promised, I have enclosed a list of books and supplies that you should purchase as soon as possible.  I have divided the book list in two parts, what you need for your studies and what you might want to read to become familiar with the wizarding world.  I highly recommend that you start with _**So You're a Wizard, Now What?** by Cassandra Quickwitch_.  This gives an overview of our society and what every witch or wizard should know.  You should have no trouble finding them in Diagon Alley, but if you do just ask Tom for assistance.  He can get you pointed in the right direction._

_I have also enclosed a special permit that will allow you to practice for the rest of the summer.  I had to notify the Ministry of your situation.  Relax, I just told them that I had come across an undocumented wizard that was unaware of his gifts until recently, and that I had agreed to let you enter Hogwarts in the same year as others your age.  They agreed with my arrangement that you be tested and lifted the restriction on underage wizards.  Normally students are prohibited from practicing magic outside of school._

_If we're going to do this, we have to do it properly.  So, as soon as you get your money situation taken care of, you must not do any other magic except that which is needed for your studies.  You may practice any spell from those studies, but no others.  The Ministry is now aware of your presence and will be monitoring your magic use.  We don't want you getting expelled before you start, now do we?_

_Before I end this letter I wanted to correct an assumption that you made in my office.  You told me about how you received your powers in a transfer.  I forgot to talk to you about this before you left, so let me tell you now.  You cannot receive Mage powers in that fashion.  You were born with them but had not yet tapped into them.  If you think about it, you probably did some strange things when you were under stress or experiencing strong emotion such as hate or fear.  The knowledge transfer, on the other hand, is possible.  That knowledge just showed you how to use your own abilities.  _

_If you wish to discuss this further, or have any other questions for me, feel free to contact me by owl post._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus__ Dumbledore_

  Bryan set the letter aside and scanned the accompanying list while he put the Ministry's permit slip on the table.  He noticed that Dumbledore had broken the book list into years for him as well as listing what he'd need for each class.  The first two years had the same classes:  Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Charms, Astronomy, and Herbology.   Years three and four had some additional classes that he had to take.  He was given a list to choose at least two from.  They included such classes as Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies.  He'd have to find out some more about these before choosing.  _Thank God I don't have to choose right now.  I have no idea what they are!_   He quickly scanned the rest of the list, which included the equipment he'd need.  Some of these included a wand, a cauldron, and a telescope, as well as various articles of clothing for his school uniforms.  When he was finished looking over the list he set it on the table next to the permit.  He'd have to remember to take both items with him when he went to Diagon Alley the next day.

  By now the experiences of the day had started to catch up with him so he decided to go to sleep a little early.  Tomorrow looked to be another full day and he'd need as much rest as he could get.

* * *

  Elsewhere, a man sat alone in a darkened room.  The windows were all boarded over and the walls were barren of decoration.  One corner possessed a tattered mattress and a small table.  The table was laden down with several large, black books and an unlit stub of a candle.  The center of the room was home to a larger table, on top of which lay several more books, several rolled up maps, and several more candle stubs, again unlit.  The only source of light was the fire that crackled within the fireplace.  Everything in the room was hidden within the dancing shadows created by the dim light of the fire.  The man sat in the room's only other piece of furniture, a chair, and faced the fire, yet his face remained in the shadows of the hood his cloak.  If it weren't for the steady rise and fall of the man's chest he could easily be mistaken for dead.

  He turned his head slightly as he heard his companion return.  This companion did not walk as one would suspect.  No, it slithered.  The man's closest companion was a rather large, black snake.

  "Ah, Nagini, back from your hunt?  You are moving a little slower than you were earlier so I presume it went well.  Come join me by the fire and digest."

  A few moments the snake had curled itself in front of its master and placed its head in the man's lap.  The man obligingly petted the snake as he looked to see just how well the snake's hunt had gone.  Several large bulges could be seen along the snake's length.  The largest was about the size of a small child, which no doubt meant that some muggle was going to wake up in the morning and find their dog missing.  This brought a smile to the man's face.

  "Nagini, there's a new presence in London.  A powerful presence unless I'm much mistaken.  We must find out more about this person or persons.  I cannot allow an unknown disrupt my plans."

  Almost on cue, another man entered the small room and stood near the doorway.  He waited for the room's occupant to acknowledge him before he dared enter further.  He made that mistake only once before and had felt pain unlike anything he had felt before and wished never to feel again.  This newcomer was a well-dressed man.  His clothing was made of the finest materials that money could buy and he carried a gentleman's cane in one hand.  The top of the cane bore a silver snake's head with its mouth opened as if to strike at an invisible prey.  The shaft of the cane was the same color as the man's clothes, black.  In contrast to the black of his clothing, his pale face and platinum hair almost shone in the dimly lit room.  Once he was acknowledged he proceeded to the side of the chair and knelt on one knee and again rose.

  "My Lord, I bring news from London.  It seems that Dumbledore has received a response to his summons.  He met a young man at _The Leaky Cauldron_ and the two of them went to his office at Hogwarts.  I do not know what they talked about, but I have been informed that the man's younger brother returned to the inn and rented a room for the summer.  I have learned through the Ministry that this brother will be entering Hogwarts in the fall as a fifth year and will be testing out of the previous years' coursework.  It may be nothing, but I found it unusual enough to bring it directly to you."  Again the man bowed to the seated man.

  "Yes, you were wise to bring this to me.  I was just telling Nagini about a new presence I felt.  This boy needs to be watched.  I don't like the feeling his arrival causes.  He may become a threat to my plans.  Tell the others to keep an eye on him and report anything out of the ordinary.  Lucius, if he proves to be a threat in any way, I want you to have him eliminated!"

  "Yes, my Lord."  The man called Lucius bowed deeply again and left the room immediately.

* * *

  In the smallest bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey, a boy with unruly black hair and bright green eyes sat up in bed.  Once again he'd had one of his nightmares that had been haunting him since his first year he attended **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**.  His hair was plastered to his forehead by sweat.  Clearly visible between the strands of hair was a distinct scar.  The scar was the shape of a lightning bolt and was a permanent reminder to the boy of how dangerous his life was.

  Knowing that he wasn't going to be getting back to sleep anytime soon, the boy reached out to the night stand and grabbed his glasses.  Putting them on he got out of bed and walked over to his window and gave his snowy owl a couple pets before he turned to stare out the window, lost in thought.  He knew that he wasn't in immediate danger, but couldn't help but feel responsible that someone else was.  He had to find out about this other boy and warn him somehow.  No one else was going to die because of him if he could help it.

  His first step was to inform his godfather and Dumbledore about his dream.  He sat at his desk, grabbed his parchment and quill, and wrote out two quick letters.  Once that was accomplished he woke his owl and asked her to deliver the letters for him.  The owl nipped his finger as a show of affection before carrying the letters out the window.


	6. Ride Into Destiny?

   
Obligatory Disclaimer:  I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the recognizable characters living there.  I am just borrowing them to tell this story.  
   
A/N:  Here's the next chapter of The Stranger.  Bryan reflects on his summer as he rides the Hogwarts Express.  
   
I want to thank everyone who's been reading and the ones that have reviewed.    
   
Sanguine:  as you've probably figured, yes, I was trying to get the backstory over with as quickly as possible.  How does one compress a story that was written over the course of several years into a few chapters?  I'm glad that you're willing to stick with it.  I hope you won't be disappointed that you did.  
   
Marauder:  Thanks for your comments.  Unlike my previous attempts at story writing, I have been trying very hard to be as descriptive as possible.  I am pleased to know that I am succeeding.  
   
I hope everyone enjoys this new chapter.  Please feel free to review and let me know what you think. :D  
   
   
   
  Coursing its way through the countryside north of London, riding on tracks laid out for its sole use, was a scarlet and black steam locomotive.  Behind it, in the same colors as itself, were numerous passenger cars.  Each car was full of the most unusual passengers.  These passengers were all witches or wizards, but that's not all they were.  Each witch and every wizard was also a student at a very exclusive school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  This train's primary purpose was to transport students to and from the school, hence its name, the Hogwarts Express.  
   
  One particular student sat alone in a compartment near the center of the last car.  Unlike most of the other passengers, he didn't know anyone else, therefore had no one to find and compare tales of summer exploits.  He leaned against the wall that separated the compartment from the hallway outside and had his legs sprawled out in front of him, effectively taking up the entire seat.  His hands were resting on his slightly bent knees and lying across his open palms was something that had, in the span of a few short months, become like an extension of his arm.  He was staring at his wand, an honest to goodness magic wand.  For the last three months he had been working with it daily, learning and practicing what his fellow students had or will learn in three years.  He still had another month or so to learn another year's worth of magic until he was caught up with the other students that would be in the same grade, or year, as him.  Although he was staring at his wand, he really wasn't seeing it.  He was lost in thought, remembering when he had first held this wand.  
   
* ~ * ~ *  
   
  Bryan had woken up early.  He was eager to get started on what was sure to be a grand adventure.  He was about to begin learning magic again, this time in a structured environment.  The very thought of it was enough to put a spring in his step as he had walked around in Diagon Alley.  His high spirits had not left him all morning, even when he was dealing with the dour creatures at the bank he had gone to first thing this morning.  
   
  He had known that the money that he possessed wouldn't be of much use in purchasing anything so the first order of business was to convert his 'muggle' money into wizard currency.  He wasn't sure of the conversion factor between the two, but he hoped it was favorable enough to allow him to buy everything on his quite extensive supply list.  Tom, the bartender/innkeeper at the Leaky Cauldron, had given him directions on how to get to Gringotts' Bank, which he later learned weren't necessary.  As soon as he had entered the Alley he immediately noticed a building that stood much taller than the rest of the buildings and proceeded toward it.  Everything about the building seemed to say BANK.  It was impossibly white and looked like it had never been dirty.  Once he was close enough, he noticed that it was also the only building that had a guard, which must be one of the goblins that Tom had told him about.  Beside the guard were two large, ornate bronze doors.  Bryan reached out and opened the doors and entered.  
   
  It had taken him about an hour to get his financial situation sorted out.  It seemed that goblins loved to fill out a form for everything they did, and in quadruplet.  There was a form for exchanging muggle money into wizard money:  a form for declaring that you didn't come of the money by illegal means, another form for obtaining a vault to store any money you wished to keep safe, as well as a form when you receive your key to the vault.  After all the forms were completed to the goblins' satisfaction and Bryan had withdrawn what he was told would be more than sufficient for his needs, he left the bank and started visiting various stores, in search of items on his list.  
   
  It was nearing midday and Bryan had started to get hungry.  He had told himself that he would go to one more store, then find someplace to eat.  He had already visited such stores as Madame Malkins, where he had placed an order for his school uniforms and the dress robes that were on his list as well as several everyday robes and other wizardwear, the Apothecary, the cauldron shop, and the stationary store.  He would have to return to Madame Malkins later to pick up his purchases.  He still had to purchase all of his books, a wand, and a few other small items.  
   
  Bryan looked around and saw that Ollivander's wand shop was closest and headed in its direction.  The first thing he noticed when he had entered the shop was the walls.  Every wall was filled floor to ceiling with small, narrow boxes.  Many of the countertops and tables were similarly laden.  No sooner had the door to the shop closed when a very old-looking man seemed to materialize out of thin air.  
   
  "Good morning, young man.  You must be Mr. Dunn.  I am Mr. Ollivander.  Dumbledore said that I should expect a new student to be stopping in today.  You're a few years older than I expected."  Mr. Ollivander reached into his pocket and pulled out his tape measure.  "Well, we might as well get started.  Which is your wand arm?"  
   
  Bryan thought for a few seconds.  "Honestly, I don't know.  I am right-handed, if that helps."  As if to emphasize what he was saying, Bryan raised his right arm toward the other man.  
   
  "Yes, quite well, indeed."  After taking several measurements of Bryan's arm and various other body parts, Mr. Ollivander jotted them on a scrap piece of parchment that appeared from the same pocket the tape measure disappeared back into.  Taking the parchment with him, he started collecting boxes from many of the nearer stacks and returned with arms weighed down with his collection.  
   
  As he had Bryan try wand after wand, he explained that each wand is unique and that it is the wand that chooses the wizard, not the other way around.  He had made two additional trips to the stacks to get more wands for Bryan to try.  When it became apparent that he would not find what he was looking for in these stacks, he gave his newest customer another look over.  
   
  "Hmm, it would seem that you aren't meant to start with a beginner's wand.  I guess we better start trying advanced wands."  With that statement he disappeared further into the shop and returned with another armload of wands, all of which had proven to be as ineffective as the others.  
   
  It was in the second trip to the back that he found what they'd been searching for.  "Ok, give this one a try.  Mahogany with maple grip, phoenix-feather, 12 ½ inches."  
   
  Bryan grasped the wand as he had done innumerable times already.  Instantly he knew that something was different about this wand.  He felt a warm sensation wash over him and several golden lights shown from the end.  This seemed to please the old man.  He seemed to sag noticeably, a look of relief crossing his face.  
   
  "I was beginning to think that you'd be the first wizard in the history of this store that would leave without finding a wand.  You have a great wand there.  Great for defending against the Dark Arts as well as for transfiguration, very powerful.  The maple grip gives the wand additional stability and longevity.  Treat it well and it will serve you very well.  That'll be 8 galleons, 2 sickles."  
   
  Bryan paid for his wand and went in search for food.  He had been in Ollivanders for nearly two hours and he was starving.  
   
* ~ * ~ *  
   
  In a compartment not too far away was another student that was reflecting on his summer as well.  Since he had the nightmare-vision the week after school had let out last year, Harry Potter had been wondering about the boy that Voldemort was talking about.  Was he alright?  Was he dead?  He had written to Professor Dumbledore and his godfather, Sirius Black, and let them know what he saw in his vision.  Neither could alleviate his fear.  
   
  Professor Dumbledore had written him back and told him that everything was under control and that the boy could take care of himself.  He also said that he wanted to introduce the two of them because they had many things in common.  Other than the fact that they both were targets of Voldemort, Harry could think of nothing else that he might have in common with this unknown boy.  The boy had an older brother that had made arrangements for him to attend Hogwarts, so he wasn't an orphan.  He probably didn't have relatives like the Dursleys, either.  
   
  During the summer Harry had also written to his two best friends several times, and had even stayed at one of their houses for the last three weeks of the summer.  Ron Weasley, the youngest son of a large wizarding family, all of which had flaming red hair, and Hermione Granger, who had curly brown hair that was starting to tame itself and brown eyes, the daughter of muggle dentist parents, were about as different as two people could be and still like each other.  They seemed to argue about every little thing and it often was up to Harry to mediate for them.  Harry cherished both of their friendships and would do anything for either of them.  And they would do the same for him.  In fact, the three of them have been inseparable since their first year, having one adventure after another.  Harry was almost afraid to think about what this year had in store for the three of them.  Each year seemed to become more dangerous than the last.  Just last year, Harry had witnessed another student get killed just because Voldemort didn't need him.  
   
  Harry spent many sleepless nights thinking about the night that Voldemort had used Harry's blood to rise again.  That was the same night that Cedric Diggory had been killed because Harry had insisted that they both take the trophy.  The trophy had actually been a portkey that transported the two of them to where Voldemort was waiting.  As soon as they arrived, Voldemort had ordered, "Kill the Spare."  Those words will haunt Harry for a long time.  
   
  The feeling he got when Cedric was killed was the worst thing that Harry had ever experienced in his life.  But it would have been infinitely worse if it had been one of his two friends.  Harry had always thought of Ron as the brother that he never had and would miss him terribly if he were killed.  Likewise, Harry had thought of Hermione as a sister of sorts.  That is, until this summer.  Harry had started to think of Hermione as more than a friend.  Each time he had looked her way during the time they had stayed at the Weasleys, his stomach would do a flip and his heart would beat a little faster.  Whether he loved her or not, he didn't know, but he knew that if Hermione had died he would miss her even more than he'd miss Ron.  Even thinking about the possibility of losing them was painful.  
   
  Before Harry could sink further into depression, he was interrupted by the very two people he'd just been thinking about.  Sitting next to him with a book in her lap was Hermione and Ron sat across from the two of them, munching on some of the candy he had brought with him.  Harry didn't know what they had been discussing before but they now seemed to be talking about what it meant to be a prefect.  Seeing Ron talking around a mouth full of candy was having an adverse effect on Harry's stomach, but he let it pass because it just wouldn't be Ron if he wasn't eating, talking about eating, or thinking about eating.  
   
  "Ron, just because Harry and I are prefects doesn't mean that you will be able to break the rules more than usual," Hermione said from over her Arithmancy textbook.  Hermione was always one to get a head start on her studies and was probably the smartest witch that either boy had ever known.  She was always at the top of every one of her classes.  
   
  Ron, on the other hand, always put off his homework until the last moment and was always trying to get Hermione to let him copy off her.  "Maybe, but if I do get into trouble and lose house points, you or Harry can award the points right back."  
   
  "That wouldn't be fair of us to just give Gryffindor points for no reason.  Harry or I would need valid reasons for awarding points to any students, especially if it were you.  Someone could accuse us of showing favoritism."  
   
  This didn't deter Ron in the least.  "Well, if Snape can favor Slytherins, then what's the harm if you favor Gryffindor?"  
   
  "For one thing, Ron, Snape's a professor and we're not.  And another, it would be tantamount to cheating.  You know how I feel about cheating."  
   
  "Cheating?  Who said any . . ."  
   
  Harry decided that he'd let it go on long enough.  He cleared his throat, which served its purpose.  Both of his friends turned to look at him.  "Ron, Hermione, why must you two fight about the simplest things?  Ron, she happens to be right.  We can't show any favoritism if we want to stay prefects.  About the only thing that will change is the fact that we won't get in trouble if we're out and about at night.  That alone should save Gryffindor at least a hundred points this year."  
   
  Ron gave it a moment of thought before he said, jokingly, "All Hail, the Great Potter has spoken.  Go forth and spread his word.  This servant is humbled."  Ron stood up and did an exaggerated bow.  
   
  "Ron, you're such a git sometimes."  Harry slapped Ron on the back of the head as he was rising from his bow.  When Ron sat back down, he and Harry started talking about whether there'd be a Quidditch season this year and who might make the house team now that Oliver Wood was gone.  They also discussed who'd be made captain.  Ron had said that Harry should be, but Harry said that he didn't want it because he had enough going on with being a prefect.  From there, the two started talking about professional teams and players.  
   
  Hermione did what she did every time they started to discuss Quidditch; she read a book.  In this case, she returned to her Arithmancy book.  It wasn't that she hated Quidditch; it was more a matter of not understanding the fascination with potentially violent games of any sort.  The fact that she wasn't very good on a broom might also have a small part in it.  
   
* * *  
   
  Bryan had been so deep in thought that he hadn't heard the door to his compartment open, nor did he notice when three others had entered.  It wasn't until he heard the other seat creak slightly as the three sat down.  Glancing over he saw three students that couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen.  There were two girls, one with red hair, freckles and brown eyes, the other had blonde hair and the lightest shade of blue eyes that he'd ever seen.  The boy that was with them also had blonde hair.  Bryan couldn't see his eyes because they were hidden by the camera that suddenly flashed as he took a picture.  Bryan was forced to blink several times in an effort to clear his vision.  
   
  "Colin, I really wish you'd stop taking pictures of everyone you see.  It can get really annoying sometimes.  Sorry about that, we didn't realize that the compartment was occupied.  We were looking for someplace a little quieter than our old compartment.  We can leave if you want," the redhead spoke quickly.  
   
  Bryan swung his legs around and sat in the seat properly and put his wand away.  Having been more or less alone for the past four years, Bryan suddenly felt the need to have company.  "No, that's alright.  I've been in the company of my thoughts long enough for one day.  My name's Bryan, Bryan Dunn."  
   
  "Hi, Bryan, I'm Ginny Weasley, shutterbug here is Dennis Creavey, and this is Sarah Thomas.  We're Gryffindor fourth years.  I've never seen you before.  Are you a transfer student?"  Bryan greeted each one as they were introduced.  
   
  "In a manner of speaking.  I'll be a fifth year, but I've never had any formal training.  In fact, I've been spending the entire summer studying everything that I've missed.  Professor Dumbledore insists that I take some tests on the old material to show that I can handle fifth year.  I've finished the first two years and am most of the way through year three."  
   
  At once the three newcomers became very animated and were all trying to speak at once.  In the attempt to outdo the other two, Sarah was knocked out of the seat and fell to the floor of the compartment with a resounding thump.  She apologized to Bryan when she landed and fell into his legs and accepted his assistance in getting up.  "Sorry, I don't usually fall for a guy so quickly.  It usually takes an hour or two."  Instead of returning to her previous seat, Sarah had taken the empty seat next to Bryan.  He gave her a look that seemed to ask if she was all right.  She simply smiled in response.  
   
  "Don't apologize, it's been a long time since anyone's fallen at my feet.  Glad to see I haven't lost my touch."  
   
  Colin Creavey found his voice and regaled Bryan with the story of how he and Sarah had met at the end of breakfast the first day.  He had been walking between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables towards the exit and was excitedly taking pictures the entire way.  He had been so engrossed in what he was doing that he failed to notice that someone had just fallen in front of him.  As Sarah had been attempting to get up from the table her foot had gotten caught and she lost her balance.  When he told Bryan about how he had landed on her, Colin's face became the color of Ginny's hair.  The two tried unsuccessfully to get up and extricate themselves from the other, but Colin's camera strap had ideas of its own.  It had become tangled with Sarah's clasp on her cloak and neither one could seem to get at it.  That's when Ginny had come along and undid the clasp on the camera strap and helped Colin to his feet before separating the strap from Sarah's cloak and handing it to Colin while helping Sarah to her feet.  Colin finished by stating that Sarah was the resident klutz and trips herself up once in a while.  Now it was Sarah's turn to turn red.  
   
  "Hey, we all can't be as graceful as swans.  I used to trip over my feet on a daily basis, but I grew out of it and so will you."  
   
  Seeing something in the way that Sarah was sitting, Ginny decided to change the subject back to what had started it all.  She wanted to know more about Bryan.  "As we all tried to say earlier but drowned each other out, you've been cramming four years of learning into a single summer?  Either you're very smart or very crazy.  How can you remember it all?"  Sarah relaxed into the seat and gave Ginny a look of thanks.  
   
  Bryan had known this was coming and was ready with the answer.  "Guys, I am not crazy.  I wouldn't call myself smart either.  I just have a great memory.  And being able to practice the material on a daily basis certainly helps to reinforce it.  During the summer I began to get to know some of the shopkeepers in Diagon Alley, and once I explained what I was attempting to do they offered to help me.  So each day I would spend a little time with them and they'd tutor me.  Although we couldn't cover everything, I am confident that I've grasped the concepts enough that I can do the remaining spells and potions.  Unfortunately, I wasn't allowed to stay in Diagon Alley late at night so I couldn't study the Astronomy stuff.  I was a little worried at first, but then the shopkeeper offered to sell me a map of the galaxy at a discount.  When he told me that I wouldn't have to take any astronomy classes if I owned one, I bought it on the spot."  
   
  "Well, I don't envy you.  I can barely keep one year of information in my head, let alone four.  If your going to be a fifth year, that means you're going to be in the same year as my brother and his friends, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter.  We could introduce you to them.  They're just down the hall."  
   
  Bryan knew that if things went the way Professor Dumbledore wanted then he'd be spending quite a bit of time with Harry Potter and his friends.  At the moment he wanted to learn more about the three kids that he was talking with.  
   
  "I'll have plenty of time to get to know them.  We'll probably be in some of the same classes and if I get sorted into Gryffindor, then we'll be in many classes together.  When we get to Hogwarts, you can introduce me.  Until then, I'd like to get to know more about three other students.  You."  
   
  For the remainder of the train ride, Bryan listened as the three friends told him of their experiences over the last three years.  Most were small tales about incidents in classes or who had a crush on whom.  But some of them were grander and always seemed to involve Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  As the train pulled into the station that evening, Bryan felt as if he had been there when Harry had fought the basilisk, when the dementors had interrupted the Quidditch match, or when Hermione had entered the Yule Ball on the arm of Viktor Krum.  He could easily imagine that he was in the stands witnessing every event of the Triwizard tournament.  
   
  No matter what he may have imagined about the adventures that awaited him at Hogwarts, none of them came close to what he'd just heard.  This could be quite an exciting year. 


	7. First Impressions

   
Obligatory Disclaimer:  I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the recognizable characters living there.  I am just borrowing them to tell this story.  
   
A/N:  Wow, I'm up to chapter 7! Since I know you want to get to the story I'll keep this A/N short.  
  
The two spells that Bryan uses in this chapter are my own creation. If anyone wishes to use them just email me. They are explained at the end of the chapter if you're interested.  
  
Don't forget to review and tell me what you think. Flames are welcome. It's unseasonably cold outside right now.  
:D  
   
   
As soon as the train had stopped at the station, students started piling out onto the platform. The older students immediately headed toward what looked like carriages. The only thing that seemed to be missing was horses to pull them. Once each carriage had filled with students it became clear that they didn't need horses. They were moving on their own. The youngest students simply looked around with confused looks upon their faces. They had no idea what they were supposed to do.   
  
There was one fifth year student that was also looking around, but for a very different reason. He was absorbing everything about this new place. He knew that this would be something that he would remember for a long time and wanted to make sure he experienced it to its fullest. He would've gladly stayed where he was except someone else had other ideas. He was interrupted when he felt someone pulling on the sleeve of his robes. It was Ginny and her friends from the train.  
  
"Come on Bryan, you don't want to miss the Welcoming Feast." She continued to pull him in the direction of one of the last carriages until she was certain that he would follow her.  
  
The ride to the school was relatively brief and Bryan couldn't tear his eyes from the view out the window. Although he had been here at the beginning of the summer he hadn't seen the outside of the school. Although he had read several books about the school, including a book called Hogwarts: A History, they came nowhere near describing the sheer presence of the school. It was almost palpable. His apprehension that he felt on the train was washed away by the chills of excitement that he now felt. He was again reminded of his thoughts about having a great adventure this year and he couldn't wait to get started.  
  
The carriages stopped in front of a set of large, intricately carved stone doors. The students passed through these doors into what Ginny had called the Entrance Hall. Bryan couldn't help but to look around. The hall itself had a high ceiling broken every once in a while by archways that were like flowing rivers of stone that started at the floor and met at the top of the arch. At the top of each arch were carvings of what Bryan assumed was the Hogwarts crest alternating with the individual house crests. At both ends of the hall Bryan could see stairs leading up and stairs leading down. Evenly spaced along the walls were torches that stuck out from very ornate stone sconces. Directly across the hall was another set of doors very much like the set they had just passed through.  
  
Standing beside the doors was a serious looking witch that appeared to be middle-aged. She was wearing a deep emerald set of formal robes and matching hat. She was staring directly at him and once Bryan looked at her, she headed in his direction.  
  
Sarah noticed this and whispered in his ear, "Uh oh, McGonagall's got you in her sights. You might want to run." Although she had meant it to sound foreboding, the smile on her face betrayed her.  
  
All too quick, Professor McGonagall was right in front of them. She gave each student a once over with her eyes as if she were trying to ascertain what they talking about. Neither student betrayed anything. "Miss Thomas, you may proceed into the Great Hall. Mr. Dunn, you will follow me, please." With that she headed down the hall and around a corner, not once looking back to see if they were doing as she had instructed. The two students looked at each other and Susan just shrugged her shoulders and headed toward the Great Hall. Bryan hurried after the professor.  
  
Just as he had caught up to her they had arrived at a plain looking door and entered. They entered what looked to be a storage room. There was another door opposite the one they had just entered through. The contents of the room itself included a couple chairs around a small circular table, some sealed unlabeled wooden crates, and several large boxes of what was unmistakably Christmas ornaments. Sitting on a four-legged stool next to the other door was the same tattered hat that Bryan had seen in Professor Dumbledore's office. He wondered what it was doing here.  
  
"Please, have a seat. I want you to wait here until I come get you in a few minutes." With that, Professor McGonagall disappeared out the way she had come. Bryan pulled out a chair and sat down. With nothing else to do, he stared at the hat and thought about putting it on. If it didn't look like it would fall apart as soon as he touched it, he probably would have.  
  
Bryan had waited about ten minutes when McGonagall returned, this time through the other door. She picked up the hat and stool and gestured for Bryan to follow her. Once they had passed through into the next room, Bryan knew that he was in the Great Hall, as it was filled with students sitting at four long tables. This room was described in great detail in the books he had read, from the house tables to the enchanted ceiling. He still felt awed to be here.  
  
As soon as they entered Professor McGonagall told him to wait by the door. From his vantage point he could clearly see the head table where most of the professors and the headmaster were sitting. Dumbledore turned in Bryan's direction and nodded hello, his eyes showing merriment. He could see the night sky as represented by the ceiling and could see the familiar constellations between the few clouds that passed by. The house tables were almost full of students, every one of them talking animatedly with their neighbors. He watched as McGonagall placed the hat and stool in front of the head table, then head out through the large doors at the other end of the Great Hall. Moments later she returned and was followed by a line of nervous looking first year students. Everybody in the hall became quiet.  
  
Once the line reached the stool they were instructed as to what they would have to do in order to be sorted into their houses. It was simple. Professor McGonagall would call out their name, they'd sit on the stool and put on the hat, and the hat would sort them into their appropriate house. And so it went. Student after student sat on the stool with the old hat on their head and waited for the hat to shout out which house they belonged to. Each time it happened the other students cheered and shook the hand of the newest member of their house. It looked like a lot of fun. Bryan couldn't wait for his turn, which he knew he must take. He hoped that he'd be sorted into Gryffindor, not only because it would make his job of training Harry Potter easier, but also because it was also the house where he'd already made friends.  
  
The sorting had gone without incident until the final student was announced into Ravenclaw. The young boy was so excited that, in his haste to get down from the stool, his foot got caught on one of the rungs and started to fall over.  
  
Bryan noticed that something was wrong immediately and simply reacted. He reached for his wand and pointed it in the direction of the falling student. "Malacusum Solumi," he shouted and instantly a golden light shot from the end of his wand and struck the floor surrounding the stool. When the boy impacted with the floor he didn't hit a hard floor as expected. He hit a floor that felt more like a nice, soft bed. He stood up and looked both embarrassed and confused. Bryan came over to the boy and asked if he was okay. When the boy responded that he was and headed over to the Ravenclaw table, Bryan pointed his wand at the floor and cast another spell. "Redintegro." At first it appeared that nothing had happened. When Bryan picked up the stool & hat and set them back where they had been, it became obvious that the floor was once again hard as ever. Bryan looked up to see that every student was looking at him. He didn't know what to do or say, so he settled on "Sorry about that" and started walking back to where he had been standing.  
  
Every pair of eyes followed him, which is probably why no one noticed when the headmaster stood up until he spoke. "Well, that's one way to get everyone's attention. Everyone, it is my pleasure to introduce a new student to Hogwarts this year. Bryan Dunn comes to us under unusual circumstances. Although he has never attended a single lesson at any wizarding school, Bryan is entering Hogwarts as a fifth year. He has studied very hard over the summer in an effort to get up to speed with his fellow fifth years. I think we can all agree that he's got a good start. Good reflexes, too. Mr. Dunn, please come back over and we'll see which house gets the right to brag about having you in their house."  
  
Bryan walked over to the stool and sat down. For the first time in a very long time he felt like a fifteen year old. Nervously he placed the hat upon his head and immediately heard someone speaking in his ear. "Hmmm. You're very powerful for someone so young. A mage, are you? Yes, I can sense it. Had some tough times in the past that you don't like to think about. Hmmm. Even though it might mean that you'd be put in similar situations, you accepted the headmaster's request. Very brave. Couldn't let someone else face similar situations unprepared if you could help it. That speaks of the quality of your honor and loyalty. There's no doubt about it, you are definitely a GRYFFINDOR!" Once again, everyone at the Gryffindor table started to clap and cheer as he made his way toward them.  
  
As soon as he got there he noticed that Ginny Weasley made a space between herself and her older brother and indicated that he should sit there. Bryan gave her a warm smile of thanks and took the offered seat. Across the table he saw Harry Potter sitting next to whom he assumed to be Hermione Granger. This was immediately confirmed as she reached across the table and shook his hand and introduced herself and those around her.  
  
"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. This here's Harry Potter and sitting next to you is Ron Weasley. I guess that you already know his sister Ginny. On the other side of Ron are Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan, and Dean Thomas. They're fifth years as well." Bryan shook each of their hands as she introduced them. Hermione looked around as if looking for someone, but soon gave up and looked at Bryan again as everyone started sitting. "Harry and I are the fifth year prefects so if you have any questions, feel free to ask one of us."  
  
Harry looked across the table at his former dorm-mates and had a mischievous smile on his face. "Well guys, it looks like you don't have to fight over who gets the use of the extra bed. Bryan'll be bunking with you." If the feast had already started Harry might've had to duck out of the way of flying food. Since there wasn't anything to throw at him, the guys simply stuck their tongues out at him.  
  
As prefects, Harry and Hermione would be staying in the prefect dorm where they each had their own room with their own common room, as well as a private bathroom reserved for prefects. This was one of the perks of the job that Harry had been looking forward to. Sure, he'd miss rooming with Ron, but he definitely wouldn't miss Neville's loud snores or the way that Seamus talked in his sleep.  
  
After Professor Dumbledore had said a few words by was of greetings to all students, the feast began. At once every plate, platter, and cup filled with food and drink. It was the most food that Bryan had ever seen in one place. After noticing everyone helping themselves to as much food as they wanted Bryan did the same. While everyone was eating they talked to each other about their summer, what they thought classes would be like, and other such stuff. It wasn't until desserts had appeared and everyone was beginning to get full that they started asking Bryan about himself and telling him about them. He answered their questions as best he could without telling too much. He didn't lie to them, but he also didn't go into great detail.  
  
It was Ron that decided that he'd had enough of the single sentence answers. "Listen, mate, is there a reason that you don't want to talk to us? You've been avoiding giving us any real answers. We've told you all about us, so what gives?"  
  
"Listen, guys, I would like to tell you all about myself. It's just that there are some things that I don't like to think about and my past is a big part of that. There are other things that I can't tell you. But here's what I can tell you. I am what you call a muggleborn, at least on my mother's side. I never knew my dad. I had an older brother and sister. I also had a great many friends. Every single one of them is dead. They're all dead because of me. My mom and sister were the last ones to die; that was four years ago. I spent the last four years wandering the United States, trying to forget my pain. I never stayed in one place long in case anyone was looking for me. One day I get the urge to go to London, so I did. That's when I met Professor Dumbledore and he explained what I was. He invited me to attend Hogwarts as a first year. I said that I'd be more comfortable with students closer to my age so he agreed to let me come as a fifth year. As he said, I have spent all summer learning four years worth of magic. In about a month I'll be tested on that material. Beyond that, there's not much else that I'm willing to talk about right now. Maybe when I get to know all of you better, I'll feel more comfortable talking about it. For now, though, that's the best I can do." Bryan knew that he probably said more than he should have, but he couldn't tell them nothing.  
  
Not knowing what to say, everyone finished eating in silence. When Dumbledore stood once more and addressed the students once more they were all relieved for the diversion.  
  
"Now that we've filled our stomachs, I must now start filling your minds. Once again I must remind you all that the Dark Forest is strictly out of bounds. Any student caught entering the forest will be punished severely. Please note that new wards have been placed around Hogwarts that prevents people from disguising their identities. Poly-juice potions and Glamour spells will not work on Hogwarts grounds, so you can rest assured that everyone is who they say they are. We don't want a repeat of last year, now do we?  
  
"Also, as many of you may have noticed, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has not arrived yet. Until she arrives, Professor Snape will be teaching it in the interim." There were several loud groans at this. "Never fear, Professor Snape will still be able to teach Potions.  
  
"Lastly, I wish to remind you all that we are living in dark times and that you should be mindful of your surroundings and be vigilant in your studies. Now more than ever, you never know when you'll need to defend yourselves and others.  
  
"With that said, I wish you all goodnight and pleasant dreams. Tomorrow classes will begin and you'll need to be rested."  
  
At once everyone stood and headed for the entrance, prefects in the lead. Bryan looked again toward the head table and noticed that Professor Dumbledore was waving him to follow the other students. Bryan took that to mean that he would introduce him to Harry properly some other time. He followed his fellow Gryffindors back to the dorms, then followed Ron and Seamus to the room that would be their home for the year. He quickly found the bed that was his and started unpacking his trunk and placing everything in the wardrobe that was beside the four poster bed. After sliding his wand under his pillow, Bryan laid down and was asleep almost instantly.  
  
****************************************************************************************************  
  
Here's what the spells Bryan used mean:  
  
Malacusum Solumi (mal a koo sum sol uh mi)- Used to soften the floor or ground.   
  
Redintegro (Re din teg row) - to restore something its original state. Very similar to Finite Incantatum. 


	8. Day of Reckoning

   
Obligatory Disclaimer:  I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the recognizable characters living there.  I am just borrowing them to tell this story.  
   
A/N:  Ooh, chapter 8! Sorry about this being so short, but I wanted to get this out since I won't have time to post anything for a few weeks since finals are fast approaching. I hope you like it anyway.  
  
Don't forget to review and tell me what you think. Flames are welcome. I'll just have to remember to do a fire freezing spell.  
:D  
   
   
September passed by quickly for Hogwarts' newest fifth year student. He couldn't believe that he was about to take the tests that he'd been preparing for since the beginning of summer. To say that he was nervous would be understating things in a big way. He could barely remember when he had taken any test without using magic to cheat. He tried not to think about what would happen if he failed. There was no doubt that Professor Dumbledore would be disappointed. Their plan hinged on Bryan being able to pass these tests.   
  
He entered the classroom where his first test would be administered about ten minutes early, took a seat near the professor's desk, and thought about his new friends. They were going to Hogsmeade, an entirely wizarding town, and would be having fun, just as most of the students in third year and above were doing. He knew that they all deserved the break. They had all been helping him study, talking about their experiences with each professor and what they liked to test on, and making sure that he didn't burn himself out by engaging him in a game of Exploding Snap or Wizard Chess each night. They'd also talked at length about themselves until Bryan knew more about each of them than he'd known about almost anyone else before. Bryan couldn't help but wish that he was with them instead of taking these tests. It was a Saturday for Merlin's sake!  
  
He could easily picture what each of his friends would do in Hogsmeade. Ginny and Sarah would go with Colin to get more film for his camera, then drag him to Gladrags Wizardwear to check out the latest in dress robes. Ginny would also make a side trip to Zonko's Joke Shop to find something to get back at her twin brothers with. Hermione could be counted on to buy several new books, while Harry and Ron would head straight for the Quidditch shop. All of them would be certain to stop at Honeydukes Sweetshop before finishing their day at the Three Broomsticks to enjoy a couple butterbeers.   
  
Of all his new friends, he knew Hermione the best. She'd been the first of the famous trio that he got to know. One night during Bryan's first week the two of them had somehow gotten on the subject of books that they'd read. When Hermione found out that they'd read many of the same books, she seemed to beam with joy. It seems that her other friends hadn't shared her interest in learning as much about the wizarding world as she was. Finally she'd found someone that had that same drive, that same passion. For the rest of that evening and well into the following morning they had talked about such books as Hogwarts, A History, Magical Theory, and Notable Magical Names of Our Time. Bryan found himself enjoying these discussions as much as, if not more than, playing games with the others.  
  
They were also in every class together since Bryan had opted to take Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures. When he had researched all of the elective courses he'd found out that Divination dealt with reading tea leaves, palmistry, crystal gazing, and other such topics. He couldn't help but think about the carnival gypsies that made their living fooling people into forking over large amounts of money for vague ramblings that could be applied to anyone's future. He had to laugh at that. Muggle Studies wasn't necessary since he'd lived his entire life in the muggle world. He probably knew more about muggles than any professor.  
  
Hermione had proven that she was deserving of being referred to as the smartest student at Hogwarts. She knew the answer to every question that was put to her by any of her professors, including Professor Snape. This seemed to be a constant irritation for Snape. Whenever he was forced to allow her to answer a question he got a look on his face like he'd just bitten into a lemon. Bryan could tell that Snape would've been pleased with Hermione if she were in Slytherin, but since she was a Gryffindor he kept referring to her as a know-it-all. Hermione never let it bother her, though. She had the fact that she continuously was at the top of the class to offset it.  
  
Not only was Hermione smart, but she was also one of the most caring people Bryan knew. She took it upon herself to help others whenever they needed it. In this way she was no different than Harry. Even after the other students had gone to bed, Hermione would stay with Bryan and make sure that he understood everything. She had even given Bryan a list of additional books to read to help round out his knowledge, which she would quiz him on later. During these late night study sessions they'd discuss anything that Bryan wasn't sure about in the old material, a new book that they'd read, or the newest assignments they received in classes that day.  
  
They also talked about their other friends. It was during these talks that Bryan came to the realization that Hermione was in love with Harry, except she didn't seem to know she was. Whenever she mentioned something that Harry had done or said, her eyes would get that extra sparkle and her smile was a little deeper. He had observed similar behavior in Harry around Hermione, except he seemed to be aware that his feelings ran deeper than friendship. Of course whenever anyone asked either one about their feelings for the other they always responded that they were 'just best friends.' Bryan hoped that someday the two of them realized the truth. They were the opposite sides of the same coin, so very different and so very similar at the same time. They were meant for each other.  
  
Of course Harry and Hermione weren't the only ones that were eyeing each other. Ginny and Colin were openly dating and weren't above such public displays of affection as holding hands, lying in the other's lap, or just leaning against the other when there wasn't room enough for lying down. They hadn't reached the point where they were comfortable kissing in front of others, but Bryan suspected that it wouldn't be too much longer.  
  
Ron and Sarah had also been spending a lot of time together and weren't afraid to admit that they liked each other, but hadn't started dating yet, opting to just enjoy each other's company. They probably felt that one month wasn't enough time to make such decisions in. Many nights when the seven of them were in the Gryffindor common room, the two of them would end up engrossed in their own conversation and laughing at something the other had said.  
  
Bryan couldn't help but feel like the odd man out, but knew it was for the best. Many times he found himself cursing his fifteen year old body and its unwillingness to cooperate with his twenty-two year old mind. He recognized what was happening, having gone through it once already. His body was, once again, maturing. His hormones and emotions were becoming erratic. He could feel his body's instinctive drive to seek out the opposite sex and his emotional need to find his soulmate. He was jealous of his friends and happy for them at the same time. As long as he remained in this body he knew he'd have to deal with these things as best he could. He may not be able to control his body's reactions, but his emotions were something that he'd learned to suppress in his four years of solitude. He knew he could get through this, and as soon as he told his friends the entire truth, they'd be able to help if needed.  
  
"Well, I hope you're ready because I'm not happy about sacrificing my weekend for one of Dumbledore's special cases." Professor Snape chose that moment to enter the room and stopped in front of Bryan. Snape looked at him with his normal annoyed-at-the-Gryffindor look. "This test will be on four years of Defense Against the Dark Arts. For the next ninety minutes I will be asking you questions about the material and you're to answer as quickly and as fully as possible."  
  
This surprised Bryan and his earlier worries returned. He'd been prepared for written exams. "So this is an oral exam?"  
  
"Yes, and several demonstrations as needed. Let's begin. Explain in detail the difference between hexes and curses."  
  
And so began one of the worst days in Bryan's life. He'd had worse in the past and would be facing far worse in the future, he just didn't know that yet. 


	9. Running Into Someone New

Obligatory Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter universe or any of the recognizable characters living there. I am just borrowing them to tell this story.

A/N: At long last, Chapter 9. I'm sorry for the long absence. I've been having the biggest case of writer's block. Now that I'd gotten past the dreaded testing that Bryan had to face, I've been stumped on exactly where I wanted to go with the story. I have many small ideas floating around in my head that I want to put into the story but fitting them all together in some semblance of order has proven to be more difficult than I had thought. I hope that this chapter was worth the wait, but probably wasn't. 

Please don't forget to review and tell me what you think. Flames are welcome. I've got a fire freezing spell and I know how to use it.

~8-) 

As the sun shone through the window of the fifth year boys' dorm it had the effect of warming the room, thus taking off the chill that had settled in the room during the night. It also shone itself directly into the face of one student that was too tired the previous night to pull the curtains on his four poster bed thereby effecting his abrupt rise to consciousness.

Slowly Bryan opened his eyes and rose to a sitting position. For a few moments he simply sat on his bed. His elbows were resting on his knees and his face was buried in his hands. The first thoughts that he had were about the tests that he had finished late last night. Never in his life had he taken such grueling exams as they had been. He knew that he must have passed every test except for his DADA and Potions exams. All of his professors were quick to praise him for his good work before they sent him on to his next test. 

Professor Snape did no such thing after he had taken his Defense Against the Dark Arts test first thing yesterday. Not once during the entire exam did he ever tell him whether his answers were right or wrong; he simply went on to the next question or demonstration with his usual scowl firmly in place upon his face. When the last question was asked and no other demonstrations were demanded Bryan stood near his desk and waited while Snape was writing something down on the parchment before him. As if sensing that he still had an audience Professor tilted his head up just enough to let his eyes to barely become visible below his brow. Sweeping his left hand toward the door while covering the parchment with his right hand, he spoke in the same cold tone that he'd been using all morning. "What are you still doing here? Go on to your next exam. Professor Vector is waiting for you!" Bryan thanked him for his time and rushed out the door and toward one of his favorite subjects, Arithmancy.

If having Snape for DADA in the morning hadn't been bad enough, having him for Potions that night was even worse. The professor's scowl had deepened even further sometime since the morning. Add in the fact that he took to belittling Bryan whenever he made the slightest mistake in preparing one of the numerous potions that Snape had decided to use. Sometime in the second hour of the Potions exam Professor Snape took the knife from Bryan's hand and pointed it directly into its former owner's face. "How do you expect to pass a Potions test if you cannot even cut Beruvim stems correctly? We'll be here until you can prove that you can prepare a proper potion, even if it takes all night!" As if to emphasize his point, Professor Snape jammed the knife into the desk, straight through the stems that Bryan had just cut.

For two more hours Bryan prepared potion after potion to the apparent dissatisfaction of Professor Snape. He had even been asked to make some potions that he was sure weren't in any of the books that he'd been studying for the last four months, neither the textbooks nor the additional books that Hermione had recommended. Bryan was close to calling it quits and telling the professor exactly where he could put the next potion. Not only was it almost ten o'clock at night but he was also extremely low on potion supplies, several of which he'd completely depleted an hour or more ago. He was a little surprised when Professor Snape indicated that the test was over even though he still hadn't prepared a proper potion. It was a mentally exhausted Gryffindor that had crawled into bed that night, not even bothering to remove his robes.

As his mind caught back up with the present Bryan rubbed the last remnants of sleep from his face and stood up to stretch. He was rewarded by a slight twinge in his right calf muscle. _Guess I've been neglecting my regimen for too long. Even a teenage body must be maintained._ Bryan looked around at the beds of his fellow dorm mates and briefly thought about going back to bed. After all, it was Sunday and everybody would be sleeping in a little more than normal. At that moment Neville started to snore again, which seemed to prompt Seamus to start talking. If Bryan wasn't mistaken, it had sounded a lot like he had said, "Don't worry, Lavender, I'll protect you."

After another quick stretch, Bryan went to his wardrobe and pulled out the sweats that he had purchased when he had decided to try out for the house Quidditch team. Although they looked very much like every pair of muggle sweats he had owned, they were slightly different. They were entirely black except for the one inch wide stripe that went down the sides of both arms and both legs. On the left chest was the Hogwarts school crest while the back of the sweatshirt contained a large Gryffindor crest. If they stopped there he would have no problem wearing them anywhere in the muggle world. However, these particular sweats went a little further. The Gryffindor lion on the crest would occasionally move its head as if it were roaring as loud as it could. No sound could be heard thanks to a simple muting spell that Bryan had used on the lion shortly after he bought the sweats. It had quickly become annoying to have a lion roar every time you moved. In addition to the moving lion, the stripe that ran down the sides would alternate about every five seconds between the scarlet and gold colors of Gryffindor house. _Time to get some real use out of these._

After slipping into the sweats and securing his wand in one sleeve, Bryan quietly left the room and headed out of the school toward the lake. He was a little surprised that he hadn't been stopped by anyone but let it slip from his mind as he began his warm-up exercises.

After twenty minutes, Bryan felt sufficiently limber and started to run along the edge of the lake, not quite sprinting but also not quite jogging. His route around the lake took him along the edge of the school grounds as well as along the Dark Forest. Bryan could almost feel the eyes of many of the forest's residents follow him as he ran past. When he passed by Hagrid's hut he could hear Hagrid's pet boorhound, Fang, barking to be let out. Moments later the front door had opened and out bounded a very large black dog which ran up to Bryan and sniffed him briefly before heading into the forest. Bryan waved to a startled Hagrid who only managed to wave back before Bryan was too far away for much else. When Bryan reached the point where the lake went beyond Hogwarts' school grounds he simply turned and followed the new boundary and headed back in the general direction of the school.

He had forgotten how peaceful the world seemed first thing in the morning. When he would run he was able to simply let all the worries of the previous day just drift away and just enjoy his surroundings. With only the sounds of the animals as company he could almost imagine himself far away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. But all too soon the first stirrings of human reality would make itself known and he'd take that as his cue to finish up and get on with his day. Today that reality came in the form of an unknown witch coming up behind him as he was doing his cool-down.

She looked to be in her early thirties or late twenties. She was wearing her raven-black hair in a loose ponytail that disappeared into the collar of her lightweight red and gold cloak. Her hazel eyes seemed to take in every detail of Bryan in a single glance before she gave him a warm smile. "Ah, a Gryffindor tempting the fates by being outside so early. You must be brave, indeed. If Filch were to catch you it'd be detentions for a month." The sparkle in her eyes told Bryan that this witch most definitely knew of Filch and that she was also kidding him about bravery. "I'm sorry, where are my manners. My name's Arabella Figg. I'm supposed to be the DADA professor." She held out her hand.

Bryan gave the new professor another quick once over and almost didn't shake her hand. It wasn't that he thought she was a bad person; he just thought that she looked almost frail and was afraid to hurt her accidentally. After a moment's pause, he took her hand and was immediately surprised by the strength of her grip. _That'll teach me to judge someone on looks alone.  Bryan gave her a warm smile of his own as he shook her hand properly. "Hello, Professor Figg, I'm Bryan Dunn, fifth year Gryffindor that's just been caught out of bounds."_

"Well, since I'm not your professor quite yet why don't we just forget the Professor Figg and stick with Arabella for now. That way I can forget that I saw you out here."

"Okay, but you have to call me Bryan then. I hate it when I get called Mr. Dunn. It makes me sound so OLD!" he said in the same light tone that Arabella had been using.

Arabella gave a small chuckle as she remembered all the times that she had heard similar sentiments when she was a student at Hogwarts. She was about to tell Bryan of one such incident when she was interrupted by a loud thump behind her. She turned around and found that one of her trunks had broken free of the levitation spell again and tumbled to the ground. She said a few words that Bryan didn't recognize but could guess to be swearing in another language. When she turned around again she was again a picture of joviality.

"It would seem that one of my trunks is in a foul mood and not cooperating with me. Would you be kind enough, Bryan, and help me carry my things to the Headmaster's office? I was supposed to meet with him first thing this morning and I'd rather not fight with this trunk the entire way."

"Not a problem, Arabella." With a quick flick of his arm, Bryan's wand slid from his shirt sleeve and into his awaiting hand. _"Leviosa Vincio."_ The wayward trunk as well as half of Arabella's other things formed into a controlled, tight cluster and started to proceed ahead of them toward the castle entrance. They continued their light conversation the entire way.

After escorting Arabella to Dumbledore's office, Bryan headed back to the dorms and took a shower. As he was getting dressed to head down to breakfast he thought about how refreshing it was going to be to have a DADA professor that had a personality. His thoughts were interrupted when his dorm mates started to wake up. Dean, Seamus, and Neville wished him a good morning before they headed toward the showers themselves. Ron had a little more to say than that.

He was sitting up in bed and looking at Bryan with partially closed eyes and let out a giant yawn before getting out of bed. "What're you doing up already? If I'd been taking tests well into the night like you were mate, I'd probably sleep until dinner time." Another yawn. "How d'ya think you did? I hope you passed, for your sake. Otherwise Hermione'll be after you about making sure you study even harder."

"To be honest, Ron, I think I did pretty good on everything except DADA and Potions. Snape's just too hard to read. I swear he had me do everything that you've covered in the last four years and probably more. I got the feeling that he wanted to make sure I failed because he had me doing things that weren't in any of these books I've been studying." Bryan pointed to the large collection of books that piled on the desk next to his bed.

Ron walked over to Bryan and clapped him on the back before returning to his wardrobe and getting his shower stuff. "I wouldn't put anything past that oily git. He's got it in for all Gryffindors. I wouldn't be too surprised if he found some way to take away house points, too."

"Actually, he did. He took fifty points because I was running out of potion ingredients. He said I should've been better prepared and had adequate supplies. How was I to know that he'd have me make that many potions?" Bryan sighed as he followed Ron toward the door. When Ron turned and headed toward the showers, Bryan told him that he'd see him at breakfast.

"Okay, mate. If you see Harry before I do, tell him I'll let him have a rematch later if he's up to it." Both of them smiled at this. Ron was the resident chess champion and Harry kept getting beat time after time, but Harry kept coming back for more.

"Will do, Ron."

A/N #2: I seem to have hit another mental block. I had other ideas about what I wanted to put in this chapter, not the least of which was Dumbledore's formal introduction between Harry and Bryan, but whatever passes for my muse seems to have split again. Hopefully I can get it back soon so I can write a longer chapter 10. Please remember to review. And my thanks go out to those that already have.

~8-)


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